Awww… how cute! He looks just like you. Congratulations.
Michael? Paying a compliment? In the year and half since Seth had introduced the man to Junior, he hadn’t heard much from Michael except for the odd comment online. He clicked on Michael’s profile to read: “Engaged” listed under “Status.” Under his “Latest news” heading, he’d posted:Guess what, peoples? We’re getting married! In New York.A picture of a smiling Junior accompanied the announcement. Getting married? Good for them. Nothing poked at Seth’s heart while reading the engagement announcement; in fact, it inspired relief—providing the couple remained in New York. Widow Pickens taking Junior to task for cowardice in front of the entire town might have contributed to the man’s sudden desire to relocate. Seth did briefly wonder how Junior liked scuttling around Central Park every month, dodging joggers and little frou-frou, bootie-wearing dogs.
He drove home with one hand on the steering wheel, the other flying up to greet oncoming drivers (he still shivered at approaching cars), a woman walking her dog (Seth barely even cringed now when faced with canines), and a man getting mail out of his mailbox. In a short amount of time, he’d gone from stranger to one of Possum Kingdom’s leading citizens, a fact that still made his head spin.
Two vehicles occupied the back yard when he arrived home— Dustin’s Ranger and the old Silverado Monica refused to replace. Seth parked in his usual spot in the barn and checked the progress on the new garage on his way to the front porch. “I’m home!” he called, stepping inside.
Dustin greeted him with a glass of tea and a kiss by the door. “We’ve got guests checking in tomorrow. A family of skunk shifters down from Cleveland. I’ve put them in the new attic suite. And a pair of honeymooning bunnies are set to arrive next week.”
“Better put ’em in the back bedroom,” Seth replied. “Keep us from hearing ’em.”
Dustin laughed. “We can always give them a run for their money.”
“Hey, you two. Cut that out! There’s an impressionable child here!” Monica rose from the settee and strolled out to join the men in the hall, handing Dustin an empty bottle. “Here, go wash this.” She placed six-month-old Aaron on her shoulder, lightly swatting his back until he belched. “Oh! There’s Mommy’s little truck driver.”
Dustin brushed a quick kiss against Seth’s neck. “Sure you won’t stay for dinner, Monica? We have plenty.”
Monica held out the baby, and Seth grinned at the little boy with his mother’s light-colored hair and daddy’s nose. “Thanks, but I really need to get home.”
“Well, I’ll see you at work tomorrow, then.” Dustin rose up on his toes to kiss Monica’s cheek. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get supper on the table.” Dustin ruffled the baby’s golden curls on his way out of the room.
“I’ve finally found a suitable babysitter for full moon nights, didn’t I, widdle Aaron-rarin’,” Monica singsonged, the sudden display of maternal affection taking Seth aback. Even after nine months of pregnancy and six months of coparenthood, it still amazed Seth what a great mother Monica was. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed she had a motherly side.
Clutching the sleepy child to his chest, he walked Monica out to her truck. A cricket perched on the hood. Aaron snatched at it, gurgling. Seth laughed, snagging the bug and stuffing it out of the baby’s reach into a pocket. “No, son. You can’t have the hoppy critter. That’s Daddy’s midnight snack. You can have one when you’re bigger.”
He hugged Monica. “Thanks for him,” he said, trying and failing to keep the soppy grin from his face. “From me and Dustin both.”
Monica replied with a bittersweet smile. “Irene would be happy, about the baby, about you and Dustin, and about you heading the passel.” She nuzzled noses with her son. “Isn’t it amazing, Aaron? Yourdaddy’s all grown up now. Who’da thunk it possible?”
She climbed into her truck. “Take care of Aaron and Dustin.”
Seth stood in the yard and watched her leave, Aaron drowsing in his arms. When the sound of the truck faded into nothingness, Seth murmured, “C’mon, little guy; let’s get you to bed.” He entered the house, amused by his lover’s singing in the kitchen, the scent of cabbage and corned beef announcing another foray into Aunt Irene’s cookbook.
Careful not to disturb the baby, Seth eased down the hall to his old bedroom, now converted into a nursery. He placed his son in the crib and crouched beside the spindles to croon, “Ba-a-ah-ack, back in black….”
