Callie laughs. “You know you can just skip the expletives entirely. Nobody would miss them.”
I shrug. “It’s a hard habit to break, but I’m trying.”
“So where do you want to go now? I’m here for you.”
“Shouldn’t you think about getting back to work? You’re about a week late by now.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Ah, Dr. Yao will cover for me. Now that I know he’s secretly in Arturo Flores’ pocket, I think he and I have an understanding. I want to help you and Zoe get settled. That is, if you’ll let me.”
The hesitance in her voice is endearing and I pull her into my arms again. “If you can put up with us, heck yeah, I’ll let you.”
Freedom feels too surreal after the ordeal of the last two weeks. Hell, after the last three years of becoming someone else, it’s a challenge to slip back into my old life. The more I try to find my way back to that old skin, the more I realize it just doesn’t fit me anymore, and I’m at a loss as to how to behave.
The only thing that allows me to avoid that stress is Zoe. Instead of worrying about who I am now, I focus on her. Her needs are everything. But there are a few things that need to happen before I can truly settle down and start my new life as a dad to my baby girl.
Zoe’s in a less elaborate carrier wrapped around my body—one I can get in and out of easier—but before we left Mexico City, Callie insisted that if I plan to carry the baby around all the time, I have to compromise by wearing a back brace. I relented, so underneath my shirt is a stretchy harness-contraption that maintains my posture to keep me from over-exerting the muscles around my surgical incision.
From the airport, we head straight to the hospital. The ICU floor is still filled with the symphony of subtle hums and beeps. My pulse picks up when we near Mom’s room.
Callie and Maddox lead the way and I hang back, gripped with nerves. We called ahead and learned both Elle and Sam are with Mom right now. She still hasn’t woken up, but yesterday they started weaning her off the drugs that kept her under. Callie thinks the timing is good to visit now. Having me there could help her recover faster. I hope to hell she’s right.
Elle and Sam don’t budge from their spots in the two chairs when Maddox walks in. They perk up when they see Callie, who greets them before diverting her attention to Mom. Then their eyes slide to me where I stand in the doorway, waiting for a reaction.
Elle frowns, staring between me and Zoe in consternation. Sam whispers, “No fucking way,” and his eyes go wide. Then he stands and Elle slowly unfolds herself from her seat, mouth falling open when it finally sinks in that her eyes aren’t deceiving her.
“J.J.?” she breathes. “Is it really you?”
“Yeah, Bean. It’s me.”
They both rush me, asking a million questions at once. “Where the hell have you been? What’s up with the baby? Why didn’t you tell us? Are you back for good? Whose baby is this? Is she yours?”
“Guys, give him a little breathing room, for Christ’s sake,” Maddox says. “I’ll explain things later. He just wants to see Mom.”
He ushers them out with more promises of explanations. I claim my little brother’s chair and pull it close to the bed, then sit, loosening the carrier so Zoe can sit on my lap. She coos softly, batting her hand against the sheets in front of her.
“You know who this is, Zoe? This is your grandma. She’s sick right now, but when she gets better, she’s going to teach you how to dance. Would you like that?”
I meet Callie’s tender gaze, and we share a smile over Mom’s bed. She nods and silently slips out, closing the door behind her.
It’s a struggle not to break down again, but I manage to take a deep breath and steady myself. I clasp Mom’s hand and squeeze. Her skin is warm and dry and soft as tissue, her bones like delicate sticks. I take Zoe’s hand and place it on top, splaying her little fingers.
“It’s me, Mom. Your son, J.J. If you can hear me, I’m back. And this little girl here is Zoe. She’s your granddaughter. Pretty crazy huh? I bet you were thinking I’d be the last one of your kids to become a dad. We’d really love it if you could wake up and say hello.”
Beneath mine and Zoe’s hands I feel a twitch, and my heart leaps into my throat. Then Mom’s fingers slowly begin to close around mine until she’s squeezing so tight it almost hurts. I look up at her face to see tears streaming unchecked from her eyes. She can’t speak past the ventilator, but no words are necessary.
41 Mason
Settling in happens in a blur after that. My brother returns to his life at the Flores estate, but Elle and Sam join me for a few days at our old house in Westlake. They insist Mom would want me there, and I’m pretty sure they’re not wrong, but it still feels weird to start redecorating their two old bedrooms without Mom’s input or her hovering around, trying to feed us.
Mom is recovering, but it’s a slow process, and she won’t be cleared for discharge until she passes several physical therapy milestones. The stroke did a number on her motor functions on her left side, but she’s been working her ass off to improve. She wants to be strong enough to hold her granddaughter without help.
By the end of the week, the house starts to feel like
