Page 45 of Four Calling Birds

“No.” I raised a palm towards him in a stop gesture. “My wife. Mrs. Charlotte Elizabeth McClanahan.”

I don’t know how he interpreted that. I didn’t care. The old man shook a fist in front of his face, his teeth bared in anger as he tried to figure out what to say next. But what came next almost disarmed me in its sudden gentleness.

“Having a child is the single most rewarding experience a person can ever have.” His posture changed, the redness in his cheek disappeared, and instead of anger, he took on a look of sudden sageness. One that wasn’t usually in his bag of tricks. “And you rob yourself of that when you’re with her.”

“Are you kidding me?” I waved my arms around me, indicating the room, the house, the land I was on. “I’ve got a son in the guest room who’s alone with two kids, dealing with the loss of the love of his life. He’s in need of way more than just a good nap and a decent holiday!” I pointed through the window to the red barn in the distance. “I’ve got a son out there who’s been on some kind of penance trip of self-flagellation, living like a vagrant, riding the rails and refusing to use hot water because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it.” I pointed to the guest cabin, which did not have any occupants, but I knew they would, sooner or later. “I’ve got a daughter with a list of people who have wronged her a mile fucking long trying to find herself, and struggling, and another boy who’s trying to control the world around him with both hands, and tearing himself apart to do it. And I can’t watch them all the time, Dad!”

My dad took a step back, confused by everything that I was telling him.

Maybe I had never expressed any of this to him. I was his only son. I had admired the man my entire life. He had been the metric with which I measured myself. That’s why I let him say these things. It’s why I let his words fuck with my head for so long. But no more. Not when I hadherby my side again. I refused to lose her due to inaction.

It was long past time for us to have it out.

“I need Lotte beside me,” I pointed to the bedroom door for just a flicker of a second. But in that moment, I saw that it was open, Bo at her feet, Lotte peering through a small gap. “Because I’m fucking falling apart with all of this shit. I swear to God, I am. I am worried to death that one of my kids will crumble to the pressure and suck start a fucking pistol, because I am juggling plates, not able to keep an eye on every single one of them at all times.” I stomped over to the bedroom door, grabbed Lotte by the hand and pulled her out into the living room. “This is the woman that can convince them all to stay long enough for us to mend them, because they sure as hell wouldn’t do it for me. So you know what, Dad? Maybe you regret only having one son, but I already have a fucking brood of children who need me. Sure, they’re full grown, but that doesn’t make them any less mine.”

I wrapped my arm around Lotte, tucking her into my side. The blanket was wrapped around her under the armpits like a towel. I almost groaned, realizing she was probably half-naked underneath that thing. Blood I badly needed in my head was travelling south again, like I was some kind of horny teenager.

I knew that she might be leaving. But this was a fight I should have had with my dad three long years ago. I should have had this fight when Lotte was walking out of the house. I should have had it at Christmas four or five years ago, when he started to convince her that she was ruining my life by not having kids.

It was better late than never, and if I ate crow for it later, then so be it. She deserved to see her husband putting her first. Even if it was years too late.

Lotte took my hand, intertwining our fingers as she hugged my arm to her chest, resting her head on my shoulder. Dad looked at our joined hands with surprise, and maybe even a little bit of disgust.

But Lotte stayed steady, and as if that steadiness went through our joined hands, she drained the anger out of me and my heart slowed its frantic beating.

“Big Mack,” she gently said, referring to my Dad’s old nickname. “Tristan’s kids are 10 and 13. Tyler and Mary. They’re going to be here for Christmas.”

My father’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what the heck my wife was talking about. I looked at her, confused as well.

“They’re probably going to go sledding, or maybe snowshoeing or something while I cook Christmas Dinner. Maybe you should come and get to know them.” She looked up at me and smiled, as if oblivious to the sudden whiplash Dad and I were feeling from this turn of events. “Veder, Taz and Griffith don’t have kids of their own… yet. But it’s only a matter of time for those guys.” She turned to my dad that lit up the entire room. It was dazzling. “You should get to know them as well. They’ll need help… can you imagine Trinity Guerro changing diapers?”

My wife laughed, and I found myself laughing along, if only out of some strange politeness. Like we were at a cocktail party making conversation, not having decades worth of fighting in one sitting.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered in her ear.

“I’m not going to cause you anymore problems,” she whispered back as she came onto her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “If your family breaks, I don’t want it to be because of m—”

I cut her off with a kiss to her lips. I didn’t need any more explanation. She didn’t want to drive a wedge between me and my father. Fine. I’d accept it if it made her happy. But I was ready to hammer that wedge until we broke.

My Dad was still in the living room, shocked, scratching his head as if what he was seeing in front of him made absolutely no sense. Like he was hallucinating.

“Did you mean what you said?” she whispered up to me. “About the team… our kids?”

“Yes.” I meant every fucking word. Since she had left, my control of the team had completely disintegrated, and yet they were still here, flawed, and looking for a guiding hand that I couldn’t provide. But she could. She was our beating heart. Our home. Our hearth. And I was the walls that protected them.

She smiled. Broad, and beautiful. She turned back to my Dad.

“I bet Taz is going to be the one to give us a dozen grandchildren.” Lotte put her head back on my shoulder, staring sweetly at my father. “You should be here when she does. I bet they’re going to live in the guesthouse permanently. Just a guess…”

She lifted her head to look at me and winked. I flinched, surprised by the words.

“They?”

“Her and Griff,” she elbowed me gently. “Come on… we both know it’s going to happen.” I raised a brow at her. She smiled up at me. “Wanna bet?”

I kissed her forehead with a chuckle. “Nope. I know better than to contradict you, wife.”

“Bring Betty by for Christmas Eve.” Lotte’s smile was as saccharine as she looked up at me. My heart soared. She was going to be here for Christmas? Really? “She can keep me company while I cook.” She turned back to my father. “You and Mack can take the kids out back if the weather’s nice.”

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