passed out.
While the NICU doctors worked to save my son’s life, Ryan was rushed into surgery. She was losing too much blood, the placenta had attached to her uterus and it was tearing. They ended up having to remove it, a full hysterectomy, to save her life. We would never be able to have another child, but that didn’t matter to me at all.
For weeks, we waited on pins and needles to know that Jett would be okay. We visited the NICU daily, sometimes three or four times a day, while Ryan was recovering from surgery.
When he finally came home, it was like the sun had just come out for the first time. I had been through a lot of tough times in my life, and I thought my addictions would be the death of me at some point. Even after I got sober, there were days years down the line that the craving to drink or use was so bad, I’d have to have Ryan basically lock me in the house.
All of that stopped after Jett was born. I had this precious little life depending on me, and it was as if my brain knew he was all I could focus on. Taking care of Ryan and my son was my sole purpose now. In the nine years that have followed, every day has been a blessing. Our little family unit could not be stronger, and the love we all share is so solid and pure that I thank the universe for all of the fortunes it’s given me.
“He’s an angel,” I say, thinking of our raven-haired little boy in his new Spider-man pajamas downstairs.
“The best one. But enough about the kid, where is my attention?” She presses the smile on her lips into mine.
I slant my mouth to give her better access and slide her hips back and forth against my lap. In a moment I’m hard, and it doesn’t even matter that the air slipping into the blanket the more Ryan grinds against me is frigid.
“I love you, Fletcher.” She moans as my hands slide over her bare breasts.
“Forever.” Our kiss seems endless.
A throat clearing behind us has me pulling the blanket protectively around my wife.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t one of the kids who discovered you up here.” Forrest smirks at us. “I set up a little adult breakfast for all of us before the kids wake.”
“You’re going around to everyone’s rooms and waking them up at six in the morning? Bowen is going to murder you.” Ryan snorts.
“Forrest, we’re kind of in the middle of something.” I try to get my twin off this roof.
“And you’re only home for another two days. You have all the time in the world to play hide the salami when you’re in France or Ibiza or wherever you’re going next.”
“Puerto Rico, but who’s counting?” Ryan quips.
I roll my eyes but relent. “We’ll be down in a few.”
“Good, because I made your favorite breakfast sausage from that deli near Fawn Hill—”
“Forrest, get out of here!” my wife and I yell at the same time.
He gives us a grin before retreating.
“God, I missed them all so much.” Ryan giggles.
“Me too. This family is insane. But I’m glad I’m a part of the nuthouse,” I agree.
“Do you think we should come home after PR? We could come home, be here for the Summer Kickoff Carnival.” Ryan and I make no attempt to move from the position we’re sitting in.
“And get roped into making caramel corn? Have you lost your mind? The one and only time you helped, you almost burned half your finger off.”
Her raspy chuckle is lost somewhere in my scalp, along with her fingers. The sensation is too good, and I almost say fuck Forrest and his breakfast.
“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun. Jett will love it. Anyways, we better go down. They might sic Keaton on us and then we’ll really be in trouble.” Everyone knows my oldest brother is the conservative voice of propriety.
“I’ll be right down,” I tell her as she climbs off my lap, holding on to her hand until the force of her walking away gently pulls our fingers apart. “Just going to clean up.”
The rooftop door shuts softly behind her, and I take a few moments to clean up my paints and brushes. The sun is fully risen now, painting the landscape in its soft glow, and I can’t help but marvel at it.
Yes, we’re a stone’s throw from Fawn Hill, but it’s basically home.