Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

AOIFE

“ARE YOU OKAY?” Joey asked, when we parked up at the footpath outside of my house later that afternoon.

The drive back from the hospital had been spent mostly in silence, while we both mentally reeled. He had his eyes locked on the road ahead of us the entire time, while I had been unable to tear my gaze away from the strip ultrasound images the technician had printed off for us.

It was real.

I heard the heartbeat.

There really was a little baby growing inside of my body.

“Molloy?” Killing the engine of the car, Joey unfastened his seatbelt and turned in his seat to face me. “Are you okay?”

I wasn’t sure.

It all felt so surreal.

I didn’t know what to do or how I felt.

“Are you?”

He shrugged almost helplessly. “She called me Dad, Molloy.”

“I know.” Relieved that he seemed to be reeling too, I nodded eagerly and turned in my seat and mirrored his actions. “She called me Mom, Joe.”

“It sort of just hit me when we were in there, you know?” he mused, rubbing his jaw. “We’re going to be parents.”

“To a person,” I agreed, chewing on my nail nervously. “A literal human being.”

“This time next year, there’s going to be a kid back there,” he added, gesturing to the backseat of my car. “One we made.”

“Never mind next year,” I choked out. “We’re going to have a baby this Halloween.” My eyes widened. “Halloween, Joe. We’re going to have a trick-or-treater.”

“And Santa at Christmas.”

“And the Easter bunny in Spring.”

“And I don’t have a house, or a car, or a fucking qualification.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “We are so out of our depth here, baby.”

“You’re fine,” I accused. “You’re amazing with babies. I’m the one in trouble here. The only infant I’ve ever held was my cousin’s pet baby gerbil and guess what happened to it, Joe? I dropped it. Uh-huh. That’s right. The poor thing nose-planted its cage when I was left in charge.”

“Okay, comparing your ability to mother our child to caring for your cousin’s pet rodent is not the same thing, Molloy.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not exactly the responsible mother-type, am I?”

“And I am?”

“Oh please.” I rolled me eyes. “You’ve been a dad for your entire life. You even have that ‘don’t make me come up those stairs’ dad threat down to a fine art.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“I’m serious, Joe. You’ve got this. I’m screwed.”

“Give me another look at that,” he muttered, snatching the baby scan out of my hand and holding it up to his face. “Oh Jesus, I think I see a dick.”

“What? No, you don’t.” Gaping, I snatched the picture back and studied where he was pointing to. “That’s not a dick, that’s a leg.”

“No, that’s a leg,” he corrected, tapping the picture. “That’s another leg. And that is a dick.”

“That’s the baby’s cord.”

“That’s a dick, Molloy.” Dropping his head on the steering wheel, he muttered something incoherent under his breath and groaned loudly. “It’s a boy.”

“But you said it’s too early to tell.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what to tell ya, because that’s a dick.”

“But how can you tell?“

“Trust me, I have seen too many of those fucking sonograms down through the years. I know a dick when I see one.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I hope I am.”

“Joey.” I slapped his arm. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t give him my name,” he whispered, head still resting on the steering wheel. “Please, Aoif, just give him yours and break the cycle.”

His parents.

It always came back to his parents.

“There’s nothing to break, Joe,” I replied, stroking his hair. “You are not him, and I am not her.”

“Please listen to me. I don’t want you to give him my name,” he admitted quietly. “Not my first name and definitely not my last name. I don’t want that kid to have a single thing passed down to him that came from me.”

“Joey, come on, we don’t even know if it’s a boy.”

“It’s a boy,” he mumbled, pulling back to look at me. ‘Regardless, you need to make that baby a Molloy. Don’t give him my name.’

“Joey.” My heart sped up. “You’re this baby’s father, and I’m proud of that.” I reached up to stroke his bruised cheek. “I’m proud of you. I have never been ashamed of who you are or where you come from, and neither will our baby.”

Emotion flickered in his green eyes. ‘What if I turn into him?’

‘You won’t.’

‘But what if I do? What if I already am?’

‘That’s impossible.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I know him and I know you.’ I stroked his cheek. “He’s a bully and you’re a man. There’s no comparison. You are polar opposites. You and Teddy are not the same person, Joe,’ I whispered. ‘You’re not even close.’

“I’ll never hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I mean it.” He snatched my hand up and held it to his bruised cheek. “I will never put a finger on you, Aoife Molloy. Never. Not on you, or our kid.”

“I know,” I repeated, leaning in close to press my forehead to his.

“I’ll do right by you,” he vowed gruffly. “I swear I will.”

“You don’t need to convince me, Joe.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to his before whispering, “I’ve been sold on you since I was twelve years old.”

He looked at me for the longest time before blowing out a pained breath. “I love you, Aoif.”

“Love you, too, Joe.”

“Can I keep one of these?” he asked, holding up the long strip of sonogram images.

“Of course,” I replied, heart-bucking wildly in my chest, as I watched him carefully tear one off the strip and place it in his wallet. “It’s your baby, Joe.”

“Yeah.” Nodding to himself, he placed the sonogram in the picture slot in his wallet and smiled. “He is.”