Page 42 of Peacocks

I stopped and turned to him before opening the back door. His pale cheeks were cool to the touch as I cupped his face. “Take a breath, sweetheart. In… out. There.” I leaned in and pressed a long kiss to his lips before pulling back. “We have a few minutesbefore we’ll need to know how to talk her through her first period. And we have a lot of friends who are very familiar with the care and keeping of lady parts.”

Lane’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not asking your cousin Kandi.”

“Oh, fuck no,” I agreed happily before towing him out to the truck. “After she brought boxed wine and a crowbar to the baby shower, she’s definitely off the list.”

“It was a nice crowbar,” Lane admitted. “I used it to get the lid off the feed bucket the other day.”

I nodded sagely. “She’s on the list of our go-to about handy tools, but nothing else.”

As we pulled out of the driveway, the fading sound of peacock squawks wished us luck—not just from Dave and his bros but from the four peahens we’d purchased (“because Dave deserves a harem for bringing us together,” Lane had insisted) and the several clutches of chicks they’d hatched since then.

Somehow, the sound of the Proud as a Peacock flock brought home the reality of what we were doing.

“We’re having a baby today,” I said in wonder as we drove past the camellia that Tucker and Dunn had given us as a housewarming gift and the elaborate mailbox stand wrapped in woven wisteria vines.

Lane sighed. “We’re having a baby today.”

I glanced over at him. “You’re going to be an incredible father. You’re smart, caring, and kind. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my kids’ father, Lane.”

He turned to me with suspiciously moist eyes. “Stop it.”

I smiled as I turned back to watch the road. The silence sat heavily and expectantly between us.

“Jay?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Thank you for believing in me. And thank you for loving me. You’re going to love our daughter so well. I feel just as lucky. I’m just…”

“Scared.”

“Terrified.”

I pulled up our joined hands and kissed the back of his. “I’ve heard it’s normal. Half that baby shower advice journal was basically people saying we’re going to fuck up, and that’s all part of it.”

He took in a ragged breath and let it out. “Yeah. ‘You’re fucked, but you’re in good company’ is not as reassuring as they probably thought it was.”

It didn’t take us long to get to the hospital, and when we finally got into the maternity ward, Lane seemed shocked by the crowd in SaraCate’s room.

“Why have they let all of these people in here? The woman’s in labor, for God’s sake!”

I squeezed his hand. “Babe, you’ve met the Winchell family. They’re a little…”

Pete sidled up to us. “Unbearable? Overwhelming?Gauche?”

“Spirited,” I insisted. “And obviously incredibly generous. Your sister especially.”

Pete dragged in a long-suffering sigh. “Agreed. But let’s not forget this situation is helping her follow her dream.”

Lane waved a hand in the air. “Sending her to art school is nothing compared to the gift she’s giving us. She’s an angel on Earth.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” a familiar feminine voice snapped. “You’re not putting a needle in my spine. I’d rather shove a bowling ball out of my?—”

“Sister dear,” Pete sang in a loud voice. “Your baby daddies are here.”

“Oh, thank God. Lane, tell me you brought pork rinds.”

Lane flicked a startled glance at me. I shook my head and stepped ahead of him. “Know what we brought? Our Lamaze breathing techniques and strong hands for massaging?—”

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