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8
GRIFF
I’min the middle of working through a list of possible newspapers to buy in the southwest when my phone vibrates on the desk next to me with an incoming text.
Levi: IT’S BABY TIME
Levi: GET YOUR GINGER ASS TO THE HOSPITAL
Me: On my way
I stand and slide my phone and wallet into my pockets before texting my driver to be ready downstairs. I consider texting Claire, but I’m sure she knows what’s up. She doesn’t have practice today, so she’s been at home.
I’ve felt like something was off with her the past few days. She dodges my calls and only texts me back one-word responses. I need to find out what is going on with her. It’s hard for me to focus when I’m worried about her, which is about ninety-nine percent of the time anymore. I don’t know when she crawled into the hole in my chest, but she fucking lives there rent-free now.
I find Levi and Ivy in the labor and delivery waiting room. Ivy has her laptop on her knees and a file open on the table beside her. She looks every bit the successful bank vice president that she is, with her navy skirt suit and nude pumps. Her hair is pulled back in a bun, and diamond earrings twinkle on her ears.
“Get your own fiancé,” Levi playfully shoves me, “and stop checking mine out.”
“I can’t help it, she’s gorgeous. Way out of your league.”
“Always has been,” he smiles at her when she rolls her eyes at us, “right, Ives?”
“Will you two stop?” she says without looking up. “I need to finish these reports for Frank before the twins are born.”
“Are we the only ones here?” I haven’t seen a hint of Claire yet.
“Yeah,” Levi says as he sits in one of the chairs, “Con texted Claire because she wasn’t at home. I don’t know when she’ll get here. Victor and Ciara are on their way in from Founder’s Ridge.”
We’re the only ones in the waiting room at all, so Levi picks up the remote and turns it to ESPN to watch highlights. I’m splitting my attention between the stats, half scrolling through news on Twitter, and mostly watching the door for my little raven-haired Tsarina.
A couple hours go by before Con pokes his head into the waiting room with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. “They’re here!”
We all jump up, and Levi damn near plows us all over in his hurry to get back to the room. Ivy chuckles and shakes her head as we follow the two happy giants down the hall.
“Levi’s been obsessively texting Lilith and Con this week.” She links her arm through mine as we stroll down the long hallway to Lilith’s private room. “In fact, it was so bad she called me and said if I didn’t steal and hide his phone, she was going to, and I quote, ‘kick his balls so far up inside his body that he’d choke on them.’ I told her I’d hold him down to make it easier on her.”
“This is probably going to make his baby fever even worse. I didn’t even know men could have it.” I joke.
“Oh God, he’s been talking about knocking me up since our junior year of high school.”
I let her walk in the door first, and we both stop at the sight in front of us. Con has one tiny baby swaddled in his arms while Levi has the other. Both girls are quiet and wearing blue and pink striped hats with giant bows on top.
I look over at Lilith who has tears streaming down her face. Her long blonde hair is braided and wrapped around one shoulder. Her cries intensify when we make eye contact.
“I can’t stop crying.” She says with a half-laugh and half-sob. “Make it stop, Griff.” She holds her arms up for a hug, and I go to her. I hold her while she sobs and giggles, her tears wetting my suit.
I disentangle myself when the sobbing slows. “It’s okay. Katie was like this too when she had Bryce.” I was in high school when my oldest nephew was born, and Katie couldn’t stop crying for the entire first day after he was born. “It’s just hormones.”
“Hormones are bullshit,” she hiccups.
“Here,” Con holds out the baby he’s holding to me, “take Nora, and I’ll take the basket case.”
“Nora, huh?” I look down at the tiny pink baby in my arms. Her eyes are blue, and when I pull her cap off, I find a head of dark, wavy hair underneath. “You look like both your parents. Hopefully you have your mother’s disposition.” She’s so serious and quiet, not making a peep.
“This one is definitely Con’s little psycho. She’s already giving me the finger.” Levi smirks up at us.
Sure enough, when I look over, the baby he’s holding is scowling a patented Volkov scowl with her middle finger hooked out the top of the blanket.
