Page 87 of Love Song, Take Two

Micah knew that there would never be enough words or ways to show Fletcher how grateful she was that he came back into her life. But she would try. Every single day, for the rest of their lives.

Fletcher

The family that burps together, stays together.

Fletcher’s heart hadn’t stopped its little happy dance since the day Micah said ‘I love you’. But it was doing twirls and jumps now that he had both the George women in his life. Forever, if Emery has anything to say about it. He couldn’t believe that this was his life. A woman who was way out of his league, but everything he ever wanted. And a teenager that was funny and charming and beautiful and sassy, and certainly kept him on his toes. The past week had been a test of his emotional capabilities and he was happy to say that he’d survived.

Growing up, he was told that ‘men don’t cry’. Men were supposed to be strong and silent, stoic in the face of sadness. But that was a whole lot of bullshit. When he met Jack, Soren and Brandy, and they started The Rescuers, there were a lot of tears. And nobody joked about them being ‘manly tears’, they just cried. Happy tears over a successfully recorded album. Sad tears over the loss of a family member. Ecstatic tears when their tour was sold out. And so much more. Crying was therapeutic, or at least Hank said so.

So when Emery opened herself up and told him she wanted him to stay, when she said she was grateful for him, he let himself cry. Because if there were two people who would appreciate his tears in this world, it was Micah and Emery.

But that also brought to mind the fact that he hadn’t had such an incredible Christmas in a long time. His last memory of a big and fun Christmas was with the band before they took their sabbatical—if you could still call it that. It was before any of them got married, so the four band members, their entire crew and every single person who helped them on that last tour got together and had a wild time. Booze was flowing, celebrations were loud and chaotic. Everyone was happy. The Rescuers had made more than enough albums to keep their bank accounts full, they had gone on tour for years at a stretch and it was finally time to hang up their instruments. That Christmas played on loop in his mind regularly, because it was the last time he’d smiled so much while sitting around a table surrounded by his favorite people.

What did it say that the Christmases when he was married to Alice were boring in comparison to that or to what he was experiencing now? Since his relationship with his family was non-existent, Fletcher would go with Alice to see her folks and dinner would be a quiet affair. Everyone would do their own thing around the Christmas tree. Gifts would be exchanged quietly. It was dull. He liked Alice’s family fine, but they didn’t enjoy the little things. Back then, he didn’t know what he was missing.

Until now.

Micah’s house was dressed up far more than he thought possible for someone who had zero interest in the holidays. But it was clear that she’d done everything for Emery. From the beautifully decorated tree—seriously it was almost as good as what he’d seen at Rockefeller Center in New York—to the lights strung across the windows, even the faux fireplace had something including a stocking with his initial on it. This was the kind of Christmas you saw in movies, but it wasn’t for show. The George women took everything they did seriously and while it might not be Micah’s favorite time of year, she didn’t hold back.

More than all of this, it was the way he felt when he was with them. Welcomed and wanted. Loved. Which wasn’t totally unbelievable, but it had been a while since he’d felt like he belonged. He’d sent pictures to Erin—who had returned to San Diego for her firm’s holiday party—and his best friend had reminded him that he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. Which was the absolute truth. He had everything he never thought he’d have—a partner he loved with every fibre of his being and a kid that he would protect and love for the rest of his life.

“Fletch. You okay?” Micah’s voice broke through his thoughts and he turned to find her looking up at him with concern.

“Yeah.” He nodded and leaned into her slightly. “Still thinking about how lucky I am.”

“You looked angry there for a minute.”

He handed Micah a plate so she could slide it into the dishwasher. “I didn’t have holidays like this, you know. Maybe when I was a kid, but Christmas never looked this good.”

She nodded and gave his arm a squeeze. “Well, better get used to it. Because this is what Christmas will be like until Emery gets sick of it.”

“I’m absolutely okay with that,” he told her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

And he was. He was excited to see what kind of stuff Emery would conjure up next year, what new hobbies she’d pick up by the time Christmas rolled around again. The fact that he would get to see that for another year—and then some—made his heart do somersaults.

“Are you two done making out?”

“I thought you were grateful for our weird and beautiful relationship?” Micah countered and Fletcher laughed at Emery’s fake gagging.

“Please don’t…I have regrets.”

“Did you clear the table?” he asked and Emery pouted at him. “Come on, kid. That’s all you’ve gotta do. Bring everything in here and then we’ll stop making out.”

With an epic eye roll and a sigh that could shake even the strongest building, she stomped off to clear the table. Micah shot him a smirk and bumped her hip against his.

“You’ve already got this whole stern dad thing down.”

Dad. The term lodged in his brain and Fletcher stared as it pulsed slowly. “Is that what I did?”

“And you didn’t even realize it.” Micah laughed and walked away. He shook his head as he tried to process what was going on.

When he first met Emery, Fletcher was terrified that he’d never know how to talk to teenagers. He was forty-seven and his experience with kids was in the meet and greet line at concerts and when he was Santa for three weeks. Then he met Emery and Nico, and suddenly he needed to know how to talk to younger people. People who had never heard his music or knew who he was. And it was an adjustment. He was lucky that Emery was more of an adult than most people her age, but still.

Dad was never a role he saw for himself. Yet, he liked the way the word fit him.

“Can we please eat dessert now? It’s melting,” Emery whined as she gestured to whatever Micah had made. And to be honest, it was melting.

“Oh fuck, what the hell happened to it?” Micah stared at the dessert, which made Emery giggle. But then instead of losing her mind over it, Micah grabbed spoons and held them out to the two of them. “We’re gonna stand here and eat, dig in.”

---