“Where’s the snacks?” Tate’s not shy about letting me know he’s hungry.
Scott twists his body to tug his pants out from between his butt cheeks. “Fucking costume’s a size too small. But I wasn’t gonna be the only one without.” He flexes his knees doing a half-squat before tugging the fabric around his balls.
Victoria’s jaw hangs open, and she blinks a few times before speaking. “I need my camera.” She darts away to grabher camera while the guys shake my hand and head to the gift table.
“This is fu—uh—reaking epic.” Ares casts a wary glance at the grandparents on the sofa making Wyatt giggle before gesturing to the decorations. “When do the rest of the kids arrive?”
“Any time now.” I offer him a beer, but Victoria clucks her tongue.
“No beer yet. Photos first, then beer.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Artemis gives a quick salute.
“You heard the lady. Pups assemble.” Apollo is already moving to where Victoria is pointing.
When she has us all situated, she starts snapping. The girls join, and when Mom steps in to take the camera from Victoria, she swoops Wyatt off Dad’s knee and we get some pictures of all of us before some of just us, my family, my future wife and my son.
Apollo assumes responsibility for Victoria’s camera and encourages the grandparents to step in for pictures. Mrs. B and Phil, our personal trainer from the gym, join first. Apparently they’ve been dating for a few months but Victoria’s mom didn’t want to say anything until she knew whether it would go anywhere.
My parents are up next, we do all kinds of picture combinations until the doorbell chimes and Wyatt’s little friends start to trickle in.
Within the hour, the house is a mess, my teammates have posed for an untold number of pictures with random kids they don’t know, and not one single beer has been consumed.
By six, the kids have all left, and it’s just our closest friends and family remaining. Artemis has ordered pizza, Apollo and Ares are on trash duty, and Scott and Tate are bagging up all the extra candy, and slicing up the cake so the team can takepieces home with them. That’s additional pieces to the slices everyone’s claimed for after our pizza party dinner.
Wyatt had a quick nap, but he’s found his second wind. He’s sitting on Jackson’s knee, smacking stickers into a Ninja Turtles sticker book. Jackson has a sticker on his cheek and another on his nose, but he’s taking it like a champ.
After pizza clean-up, the little guy goes around the room hugging and kissing everyone, saying thank you and good night to each and every person. I’m not sure who’s more touched, my friends, or me. I’ve almost cried about thirty five times today. It’s all just so amazing.
When Phil comes in from outside announcing the fire pit is lit, Eloise announces she’s grabbing s’mores ingredients, and Victoria heads into our room.
A few minutes later, she presents me with my guitar, and we follow everyone outside.
It’s not cold, but Mrs. B has a basket of blankets in case anyone needs any. She’s thought of everything.
Edith is draped over Apollo in a chair, her head snuggled into his shoulder. Ares and Eloise are in a similar position. The guys are sitting wherever they can find space, the cooler has been cracked open, and a number of people are toasting marshmallows in the fire.
“Don’t eat all the s’more or you won’t get invited back next year.” I point at my circle of friends. “Any requests?”
“Ed Sheeran.”
“Taylor Swift.”
“Fleetwood Mac.”
“Stephen Kellogg.”
The diverse requests come thick and fast, and I already regret asking.
As I ignore every request so far and strum the first few notes of California Dreaming by the Mamas andPapas—an oldie, but goodie—Victoria settles on the ground next to my feet, all wrapped up in an enormous blanket.
Her phone chimes between songs with an alert that there’s someone at the door. She turns it to Artemis who’s sitting to her left. “Isn’t that your sister?” She’s already on her feet racing to the door, probably so Athena—if that’s who it is—doesn’t wake our sleeping kiddo.
Less than a minute later, Victoria comes back out of the house, Athena de la Peña striding close behind. “Is this true?” Athena holds out her phone to Artemis who jumps to his feet.
Whatever’s on the screen, even sitting outside in the firelight, causes Artemis’s face to visibly pale. “Does he know?”
“Quién? Papá?” She rolls her eyes—she might beat out Victoria for having the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen—“Síííííííííííííí.” She flicks him right between the eyes. “Pendejo. Check your phone.”
