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Remy pulled out his phone and tapped a button. “It’s done.”
A wave of nerves hit me and I shook out my hands. “It’ll work. It has to work.”
“She’s at least going to let us apologize and set the record straight.” Remy rubbed his jaw and sighed. None of us were sleeping well and hadn’t been since everything fell apart. “I don’t care if we have to tie her to a chair and tape her mouth closed, she’s going to listen to us tomorrow.”
The next day, we were all waiting around to see how Memphis was going to react. I’d slept like shit again and spent the morning unable to paint anything at all. Boone had taken some time off work, sending his patients to a close friend. I never knew what Remy was doing with his business, but he never slipped. During our time with Memphis, he’d been home more than ever, though.
I was sitting on the back patio, waiting for the beginning of what had to be the end of our fighting, fidgeting and counting out a beat with my fingers. Every breath felt like it took too long and wasn’t enough. My anxiety had felt like it was getting better before the falling out with Memphis. I’d felt hopeful that maybe I was going to be normal again. I was pretty sure no therapist would ever suggest spanking therapy for their anxious patients, but taking back control had helped. Being so out of control with everything happening had made me feel like that progress had never happened.
It was my own fault for not fixing things when the ball was in our court. I’d just been so caught up in feeling wronged again. I put so much pressure on Memphis being exactly what I thought I needed that I didn’t give her the freedom to be who she was. It was like I was counting on her to help cure my anxiety and to complete the feeling of family I’d been needing with my brothers. With all that riding on her back, one mistake had felt monumental. We’d been incredibly unfair to her.
I knew that I couldn’t put the same pressure on her going forward. She couldn’t heal me or my brothers. She couldn’t fix the things that weren’t in her power. I’d decided sometime in the middle of the night that I had to put myself in therapy. Instead of depending on Memphis to heal my shit when she wasn’t even aware that she was supposed to, I was going to heal my own shit and bring her a healthier man to love.
“Hey. You seem deep in thought.” Boone sat down across from me and looked down the path. “Memphis?”
I chuckled. “Something like that.”
“We’re the blind leading the blind with stuff like this. Maybe we would’ve understood love better if Mom and Bridgette had moved in together.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot. I’ve been so angry at her for so long. She didn’t deserve any of that anger. She probably had her flaws, but she was a good mom. It seemed like she was trying to be a good partner, too.”
“I think it’s been easier to be angry. Back then and now.” I tilted my head up to the sky and steeled myself for his response to what I said next. “I think in some ways, we’re our father’s sons.”
“I want to be mad, but I know you’re right. He held onto anger almost to the bitter end. I think we would too, if it meant avoiding pain.”
Looking over at him, I smiled and felt a little piece of our puzzle shift into place. “Well. I won’t if you won’t.”
Remy sat down between us. “What are we not doing?”
“Holding onto anger and bitterness anymore. We’re going to try being less like Don and more like Mom for a change.” Boone shrugged. “And maybe go to therapy. Seems like we could probably use it.”
Remy was quiet for a minute and when he spoke, he shocked both of us. “I’m starting to think the old bastard was doing something kind in the end.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did you hit your head?”
He grinned. “Nope, this amount of insanity came from being too close to you two lately. And Memphis. A very healthy amount of it is directly from her.”
“So, you think Don somehow knew we’d agree to have kids to keep the house and then fall in love and understand the meaning of family and maybe even Christmas?” Boone snorted. “Yeah, and my dick isn’t the biggest here.”
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I’m having.” Remy went still and swore under his breath. “Tornado at twelve o’clock. Here goes nothing.”
64.
***Remington***
Icouldn’thelpbutsmile as I watched Memphis coming up the path towards us like an angry bull. She was actually kicking up rocks with each fuming step. It felt like her bump got bigger each time I saw her and she carried it beautifully. I felt fluttering in my stomach as I watched her and stared at her stomach in awe.
“I fucking have butterflies.” I uttered it in amazement, not meaning for it to be heard, but when I looked up, I could tell Memphis heard it by the way she seemed to hesitate before she said anything.
She stopped in front of the table and looked at each of us. “I don’t know if your most recent gift is supposed to be some kind of joke, but it’s not funny.”
I waited for her to continue, because I knew that couldn’t be all of her anger, but she didn’t add anything else. Thrown off, I searched her for any sign of distress. More than what we naturally caused her. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes flashed as she looked at me. “No, I’m not okay. I’m fat and out of breath from running over here to tell you what a pig you are and I can’t even do that because your demon spawn is sucking the life right out of me.”
Boone made a strangled sound that might’ve been a laugh, but her glare cut him off. Instead, he stood up and pulled out a chair for her. “Sit down. Please.”
She held her belly as she sat. “Thank you. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll be able to start yelling.”
I laughed. It was probably the completely wrong thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself. She was fucking magic. Everything about her was like lightning in a bottle and I knew life would never be as good without her. “So you’re convinced it’smyspawn now?”
