The Fall - Book 2

258. ‍‍Lupuleț Curajos

DECEMBER 24, 2020 — NEW YORK — BUCKY

We've been driving for all of five minutes when Réa lets out a delighted squeal.

"Eeeee! They're engaged! I'm so happy for them!"

I can't hold back my laughter, finding—as usual—her antics adorable. "I'm sure they know, since you told them several times."

"Y'know what...so did you," she sasses. "So. Pot, meet kettle."

"God, you're cute," I grin broadly at her.

From his car seat, Conall cheerfully coos, and I repeat the sentiment to him. "You're cute, too, buddy."

The soft playing of the radio is a peaceful backdrop to the comfortable quiet that settles over our little trio on the ride home. Once we arrive, I open Réa's door and help her from the car, then take Conall's car seat from the back. While Réa unbuckles our son and takes him upstairs for bathtime, I unload the presents that Steve, Caroline, and Adam gave us from the trunk of the car. I place them beneath our tree—another living one, that we plan to plant beside the other one—then turn off the lights and lock up before joining the pair upstairs.

As I step into the nursery's jack-and-jill bathroom, I see Réa holding Conall, who's wrapped in a hooded towel. His ocean-blue eyes land on me, and he lets out a happy babble before reaching for me.

"Hi, bud," I say, taking him from my wife's arms; as soon as he's in mine, he reaches for Réa. "Oh, no, little man," I chuckle, "you're coming with me. Gotta get you diapered and dressed, then you can go back to Mom to eat."

Immediately, I feel his little feet start moving, and I grin at his antics. "You and your mom, and the happy dances you do when there's food. You're both adorable."

Réa's bright giggle follows me into the nursery, and Conall squeals joyfully.

"See? Adorable."

I hear Réa draining the baby bathtub and tidying up the bathroom; she joins us in the nursery while I'm trying to get a suddenly very wiggly Conall into his onesie.

"I see how it is, Lupuleț," I shake my head as I grin, "you hear Mom coming, and you get antsy." With my hand gently resting on our son, I look at my wife. "He keeps trying to roll over."

"I see that. Here, I'll take him." She trades places with me, speaking firmly yet lovingly to our son. "I guess this means you're hungry. You can eat, but you have to be dressed first. So the sooner you're still, the sooner you'll be dressed, and the sooner you can eat."

Immediately, he stops wiggling, allowing her to fit his small arms into the sleeves of the onesie. She zips it closed then lifts him up, carrying him over to the glider. I lean against the wall, a warm smile on my face as I watch her feed him, and watch him do his version of a happy dance.

'Whatever I did to deserve them, I'd do it over and over again,' I think the thought I've had many, many times before.

When Conall is finished on the first side, I cross the room and take him from Réa to burp him; I hand him back to her, and he surprises both of us by nursing on the other side.

"A growth spurt must be coming," my wife remarks as our son eats. "This is the first time in close to a week that I haven't had to pump after he's nursed."

I nod in response, and pleasant, comfortable silence settles over us. Once Conall finishes up, I again take him to burp him, then just hold him, marveling at the fact that he's mine. After a few minutes, he lets out a yawn.

"Alright, Lup Somnoros, bedtime."

"Dad's right, 'Sleepy Wolf'," Réa remarks as she takes my offered hand and rises from the glider. "Bedtime." She presses a gentle kiss to his right temple and cheek. "Sleep sweet, Conall."