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“Fuck,” he groaned. “What are you two doing here?”
“Montana, is it true?” the beautiful woman asked, her eyes glued my son.
“Jesus, dad. You couldn’t keep your trap shut for one minute?”
“I tried, son. Woman caught me sneaking this out of the house,” George said, holding up a teddy bear damn near as big as him, with a big blue bow. “I told you she would find out.”
“Because you told her!”
“Yo, George!” another loud voice rattled the house, as several more feet thundered towards the kitchen. “Where ya at, Boyo!”
“Jesus fuck, dad,” Montana groaned, walking over to me, taking York, wrapping his arm around me. “Did you tell everyone?”
Holding onto Montana, I tried to keep up with the conversation, but I couldn’t stop looking at the woman as her eyes flicked from York, to Montana, to me.
“Where’s the kid?”
“Is it true?”
“I want to hold my godson.”
“Fuck, dad. You told the Retirement Home Rejects!”
“If all of you would shut up,” the pretty woman said, then pinned Montana with a stare that would frighten Satan. “My son is about to explain why he didn’t tell his mother that she had a grandson and new daughter. Isn’t that right, Montana Ethan Stone?”
The four men behind her snickered.
“Damn boy, she full named you.”
“You’re in for it now, boy.”
“Give her the kid. Save yourself.”
“Told ya, son. You’re on your own.”
I chuckled.
They were funny. I heard Montana gulp and sigh. Taking the bull by the horns, I stepped forward. “My name is Tessa Jackson. I’m York’s mother. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” I said, extending my hand. When the beautiful woman didn’t take it, a trickle of fear surrounded me before I found myself engulfed in her arms.
“Oh, bless you, my darling girl. Thank you.”
Looking at Montana, I didn’t know what to do, so I hugged the woman back. Releasing me, she held my hands and smiled. “I’m Virginia Stone. That idiot’s mother.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”
Virginia waved her hand. “Oh, none of that crap. Call me Virginia or mom. Now, would someone please introduce me to my grandson?”
York chose at that moment to clap his hands and say, “Dada!”
Spinning towards him, I smiled.
Montana beamed brightly, lifting York above his head. “You heard it. He said my name first!”
I rolled my eyes, reaching up for York. “Give me our son before you make him sick. And just so you know, 99.9% of all babies’ first words are Dada. That doesn’t make you special.”
The room laughed.
We had all moved to the living room where Virginia was currently holding my sleeping son. After being passed around and held by everyone, York finally had enough and went to sleep.
