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“I don’t know.” I shrug, lifting my head off of Brady’s shoulder. “When’s the last time Parker came out with an update?”
“About an hour ago?”
“Here he comes now.” Nate nods his chin toward the double doors as they begin to open, Payton’s brother on the other side.
He shakes his head. “Nothing yet. They gave her something to speed things along, and she’s crying a bit now.” A pained expression blankets his face. “They wanted to check her so she kicked me out, but she wouldn’t let go of Kenra’s hand.”
I nod, rubbing my eyes.
“This baby is already stubborn and he ain’t even born.” Lolli grins.
Parker scoffs a laugh. “Right?”
Cam sits back down, knocking her knee into mine. “You heard from Noah?”
“Not since I sent him to the house. Is Trey there yet?”
She nods, showing me a picture he sent her of them sitting by our fire pit on the back patio.
I chuckle, shaking my head.
After the first eight hours, I sent Noah to the house. He tried to refuse, but I insisted. Especially since Trey was driving in alone. He needed someone there to welcome him and who better than his friend?
“Where’s Mason?” I look around.
“He was just here…”
“He snuck in the door when that doc walked out.” Chase looks up from his phone, his attention going right back. That’s about the most he’s said today.
Parker sighs, frowning. “Course he did. I’m gonna use the restroom and go back in.”
Five minutes later, when Parker’s headed back through the double doors, Mason comes bounding out from the other side.
“Baby’s coming!” he shouts, clapping his hands.
“What?!” Parker’s eyes widen, and he starts jogging down the hall as we all jump from our seats.
We crowd the doors, waiting for them to come back out with some news, and it’s not long before my cousin Kenra steps out with a smile. “It’s a boy!”
“Aww!” I fuss. “She was right.”
“Can we go in?” Cam darts forward.
“Yeah, but only two at a time.”
Me and Cam don’t bother looking to the others, but dash through the door and around the corner, jerking to a stop in front of her room.
Payton looks up.
“Hi.” We quietly enter, coming to her bedside, Mason and Parker standing just behind her.
The little cocoon in her arms is so tiny, and as I reach Payton’s side, his little face comes into view, a little beanie already on his head.
A little baby boy, so precious.
Payton is pale and tired, a mix of emotions written on her face, love being the most obvious.
“Does he have a name?” I whisper.
She nods, tears pooling in her eyes. “His name is Deaton.”
After his daddy, who he’ll never get the chance to meet.
“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful boy.” I smile, running the tips of my fingers over his soft, little hand. He stirs, the sweetest little sounds slipping from him that melt my heart. “Happy Thanksgiving, Deaton.”
Exhausted, we pull ourselves out of Mason’s Tahoe and head up the deck to the front door.
“Guess it’s Door Dash for dinner?” Cam huffs.
“Are they even open on Turkey day?” Brady yawns.
“I don’t know. I’m fine with cereal at this point. I’m freaking starv—”
Stepping through the door, we’re hit with the most comforting of smells, a fresh fire burning and my grandma’s stuffing.
I rush into the kitchen, my stomach swirling as I hit the corner and come to a jerky stop.
The island is covered in Thanksgiving tradition, and my smile broadens.
Cameron comes around as fast I did, her chest bumping into my back, and she gasps. “Holy shit!”
The others file in around me, slipping forward and examining the dishes alongside me.
There’s mashed potatoes and gravy, yams, and green bean casserole. A glistening ham, covered in pineapple rings and a bowl of stuffing.
Noah pushes through the patio door then, and in his hands, there’s a turkey.
He freezes when he sees us, but a smile curves his lips a moment later, and he continues to the counter, setting the large platter down. “Hey.”
“Dude, Noah. Are you fucking serious?” Brady grins, sticking his finger in the side of the mashed potatoes, and getting swatted away by Cameron.
“Bro.” Mason steps toward him, clamping his hands. “Thank you, man. This looks fucking good.”
I curve around the island, the others still checking out the food, and step into Noah. “You made us Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Did you really think I’d leave you at the hospital just to come back here and rest?”
I pause. “Well, now that you mention it, that was a very unlike you thing to do.”
“You were excited for today, and I didn’t want you to miss it.” He turns me, hugging me to him from behind, and toward the food, the others already pulling plates and drinks out. “Some of this I’ve never made before. I hope it’s decent.”
“Google?”
Noah chuckles, pushing me forward. “Eat.”
We don’t argue.
We eat.
