Page 61 of Somewhere in the Sunset

Weston looks most like his sister. They both have dark, bold features and the same brown eyes, and I can totally picture her as a badass soldier working overseas. Honestly, the Reed family is kind of intimidating. Weston’s dad’s a retired cop, his brother is an airman, his sister a soldier .?.?. It says a lot about their values and discipline, and as I watch them across the dim room, I notice how each of them hold themselves with a definite degree of dignity. Heads held high, shoulders relaxed, stances confident.

“Would you like to hold him, Weston?” Keaton asks, pointing to the crib.

“Please,” Weston says. He sets Sophia down and shifts to the crib, gazing inside at the sleeping newborn, as his smile stretches even wider. “I hope he has a strong throwing arm when he’s older.”

Keaton laughs. He slips his hands into the crib and delicately lifts the baby, placing him securely into Weston’s waiting arms. And yup. I can’t even deal.

“Hey, little dude,” Weston says.

Keaton feels confident enough in Weston’s ability to take care of the baby for a few minutes, because he takes Sophia off to grab a juice from a vending machine. Mark and Peyton, after a moment of deliberation, also decide they could do with a snack. They disappear out of the room, leaving Weston and me alone with tiny James and a sleeping Lily.

“Come see him,” Weston tells me, his tone cheerful.

He sits down in the empty chair his father has left, the newborn still tucked safely in his arms and fast asleep. Weston can’t tear his eyes from him, and I move by his side and place a hand on his shoulder. I love kids. I always have. Kids are so pure and optimistic, always seeing the good in the world. The only thing I love more than kids are babies, so my heart combusts as I lay eyes on James. Plump lips, button nose, tiny fingers.Ahhh.

I squeeze Weston’s shoulder a little tighter. “Would you like kids someday?”

“I would,” he says, but his sigh tells another story. He pokes his finger into James’ hand and the baby clenches his dainty fist around it. “But I grew up with a cop as a father, and every time he was out working the beat, I had this all-consuming feeling of dread. Keaton and Peyton didn’t worry at all, yet I’d have my face pressed against the window waiting for Dad to get home. Any time he was more than an hour late, Mom would start to pace and make calls. One time he reallydidn’tcome home, because he’d been shot in the arm and was at the ER. I cried forhours.I was super young then, so I thought it meant he was going to die.” Weston glances up from the baby, his eyes a deeper shade of brown in the dim lighting of this hospital room. “So yes, I do want kids, Gracie .?.?. but I worry that one day I won’t come home to them.”

“Oh, Weston,” I breathe. I hate that he already worries about the future like this, and it pulls at my heartstrings so intensely, a physical pain throbs in my chest. I kneel down by his side and place my hand on his knee. “I think you should quit the force. And I know it’s not my place to tell you that, but it’s clear that’s what you want to do, and you just need someone to tell you that it’s okay. It’s okay to step away from something that isn’t for you, Weston. Quit.”

“But my dad .?.?.”

“Would understand,” I finish. No father would want their kid to follow in their footsteps if it made themthisscared, but Weston can’t swallow his own pride. He needs some time to figure out what path he wants to pursue instead. He needs a break. “Quit, Weston, and travel with me instead.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with a sad smile. We’re still talking in hushed voices, and he snuggles James into his chest a teeny bit more. “I can’t travel to the other side of the world for six months, Gracie. That’syourchallenge. I want you to do that alone to prove to yourself that you’re capable of anything, even though I think I’d miss you .?.?. Just a little.” He lets go of James’ hand and touches my jaw, skimming his thumb over my cheek.

“If I face my fear and go traveling alone,” I whisper, pressing my face into his palm and absorbing the warmth of his skin, “would you face yours and quit your job?”

“I can’t, Gracie.”

The door clicks open, and Mark and Peyton arrive back first with bottled soda and bags of chips. I stand up from the floor and manage a smile as though my mind isn’t spinning. I care about Weston so much that when he’s hurting, I’m hurting.

“Can I have him?” Mark asks, and Weston transfers the baby from his arms into his father’s.

“Hey, Gracie,” Peyton whispers, scooting up next to me. “Do you want to go outside for a second so we can talk?”

“Don’t grill her,” Weston warns, and Peyton scoffs.

Oh no. I don’t let my apprehension show, and instead nod politely and follow Peyton out of the room. Weston’s already warned me that Peyton is the toughest one to crack, so I have no idea what I’m in for. What if she doesn’t like me? Weston is close with his siblings, and I figure their approval matters.

Peyton and I find some empty seats just down the hall, and she opens up her bag of chips and offers me one. An icebreaker.

“That’s okay,” I say. “Weston and I were out for dinner when he got the call, so we’re both well-fed. Congratulations, by the way! You must be so happy you aren’t missing this.”

“I won’t lie and say I didn’t plan my leave around their due date,” Peyton admits, tossing another chip into her mouth. She’s around the same height as me, but her petite frame is clearly misleading. She must be one tough woman if she survived basic training for the army. I’d tap out after one push-up, that’s for sure. “I think Weston needed me home too. I’m the one who keeps him right. Can I ask how you guys met? He was vague about it.”

So, this is, indeed, an interrogation. I’m not sure how much Peyton knows, but I definitely don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her by lying. My laugh is nervous. “My boyfriend of seven years left me the week of my birthday, and I was a wreck. My friends dragged me out to a club to cheer me up. I think Weston’s friends had the same agenda for him, because he was in the club that night too.”

Peyton frowns. “So, you met in a nightclub?”

“No, we met in the Uber afterward,” I say, then realize how that sounds. A blazing heat spreads across my face. “Wait, no. Let me go back a step. Weston and his friend got into a bit of a tussle, andallof us got kicked out of the club.”

“Was it Adam, by any chance?”

“Yes.”

“Of course,” Peyton says, rolling her eyes. She nibbles the edge of another chip as she listens. “Go on.”

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