11. Peyton

11

We have, or do I say had, two viable embryos. I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, two is better than none. I'm grateful for those two. I'm not trying to be selfish or entitled. I know there are women out there who desperately want a child and can't have one. It's such a feeling of emptiness, knowing you can't do the one thing your body is meant to do. I can't even imagine how others must feel—those of whom can't afford to go through the process.

On the fifth day, our two embryos were transferred into me. Now we wait. As much as I'd love to be Phoebe from F.R.I.E.N.D.S. and run to the bathroom to pee on a stick, seeing a negative line would probably do me in right now. I'll wait, even though waiting is not going to be easy. I want to thank the likes of Amazon and the internet for the instant gratification I get from clicking on something I want and having it arrive at my house two hours later. Why can't all parts of life work this way?

When we get home, Noah makes me lunch and brings it to me on the patio, which overlooks the ocean. It's funny, we have a view and access to the water, but don't have frontage. Unlike my parents where you walk out the sliding glass door and you're in the sand, here, you have to take a couple dozen steps or so, walk down a path and possibly wrestle some overgrown plants. Maybe if you're lucky, you'll run into some wildlife. Noah has a sign at the bottom of the path that says, Enter at Your Risk, mostly to deter people from coming up. I can't recall a time when a beachgoer decided to take the path and the stairs to the property, which is probably a good thing.

Noah sits beside me. We're sad, relieved, and angry. The barrage of emotions is overwhelming and I suspect they will be for some time. Of course, it doesn't help that I have so many hormones pumping through my system right now I could cry, jump for joy, and beat the crap out of something.

I take a bit of the shredded chicken sandwich and hum in satisfaction. I'm not hungry, but I have to eat. The last thing the doctor said was to lay low and keep things as normal as possible. The normal part is near impossible. Noah and I are active, rarely sitting around doing nothing. If we're not visiting my parents, we're in the water, hiking, or having sex. The no having sex thing is going to unalive my husband. He'll be a whiny brat for a week. Me too. Noah's the best part of my day. My life. Being with him is like finding the answer to everything I question. It's hard to explain.

Halfway through my sandwich, I look over at my husband. He's relaxed with his head tipped back and his feet resting on the firepit. His plate rests in his lap. Noah's already practicing the "I'm just resting my eyes" line the rest of the men in the family use.

"Hey," I say, getting his attention.

He hums in response.

"I think we should start a foundation or something."

"For what?" he asks without opening his eyes.

"For women who can't afford to go through IVF. I'm sitting here thinking, if this round doesn't work, it's nothing for us to do it again. But for some . . ." I take a deep breath. "For many, the cost is out of reach, and they may only get one try. That's not fair. It's not their fault."

"It's funny you're bringing this up. The day we had the consultation, I thought about making a donation, but then I wondered if we made it there, who would it actually help. I think your idea of starting a foundation or even a fund is smart. I bet we can ask your mom to manage it. With her still being a volunteer at the hospital she might know who could spread the word."

"That's a good idea. We'll have to meet with a lawyer, make sure we're not liable for anything and establish the regulations on how we disperse funds."

Noah scoots his chair next to mine and takes my hand. "This could be a big undertaking, Peyton. Are you sure it's something you want to take on right now?"

I nod. "It's hard for me to work if you and the others aren't working. Obviously, I'll have to be at organized team activities, and then go back when you do. But I still have time to help get things set up."

"Ugh," he leans his head back and groans. "Don't remind me about OTAs."

"Sorry."

Noah shakes his head. "It's not you. It's the fact I don't have a contract so I'm going into this last year in limbo because I don't know if they're working on a trade."

"Maybe a trade isn't so bad."

He squints his eyes at me. "What?"

"The more I think about it, maybe I don't want to work after I have this baby." I place my hand below my stomach, in hopes that at least one of the embryos wants to attach, grow, and become our child. I know there's two in there but I'm not considered pregnant yet and it's going to drive me mad.

Noah's hand rests on top of mine. "Honestly, babe. I'd love nothing more than to look out and see you with this little guy or gal in the stands, rooting me on."

"As long as we have baby headphones."

Noah laughs. "Of course. His or her grandpas will demand it. But seriously, Peyton. If you don't want to work, then don't. I don't want you to stress about a job or about my career. I could quit tomorrow, and we'd be fine. We've invested well."

I cup his cheek. "I love you and thank you for taking care of us."

He kisses my palm. "There isn't a place in this world I'd rather be."

My husband's sweet. That is until his eyes drift south of where our hands rest.

"Seriously, Noah?"

"What? I can't help it. I look at you, horny. I think about you, horny. I'm a walking talking erection when it comes to you."

"We can't, so don't even think about it."

Noah leans toward me and rests his forehead against mine. "It'll be worth the wait."

"Even if I'm not?"

"You are," he tells me. "There isn't a doubt in my mind."

For dinner, we head to my parents. When I walk into their condo, my eyes widen as my grandparents surprise me. "What are you guys doing here?" Seeing them together makes me wonder what they're up to. I don't want to think about them dating—not because I don't think everyone needs to find love—but because it feels awkward. Grandpa Powell dating Grandma James.

"Michael and I are going on a cruise," Grandma Tess says.

"I'm going too or am I chopped liver?" The sound of Bianca's voice echoes from the other room. I glance at Noah, who looks as surprised as I am.

Tess rolls her eyes. "Yes, we're all going."

"That sounds fun," I say after hugging her and my grandpa. "How are you?" I ask him.

"Doing great. Things are good. Clean bill of health."

Okay, why did he say that?

"Did you not have one before?"

He kisses me on the cheek. "I'm good. I promise."

I worry about him. About everyone. Life's too short and fragile, and this family of mine has known too much heartache. I'm not na?ve in thinking my grandparents are going to live forever, but I'd like them to be around when Elle, Quinn, and I become parents.

Noah and I follow my grandparents into the family room, where Bianca is kicked back and enjoying a mocktail. From what I've been told, she's changed a lot since Liam came back. I don't remember much of her when I was younger, and Noah doesn't talk about the time Bianca wasn't around. My mom always says, it was a different time back then, but I also know she's referring to her parents, who she pretty much disowned after my father died.

After greeting my parents and Bianca, I look at my mom. "Where's Oliver?"

"He's napping."

I groan.

"He'll be up soon. Come sit, tell us how today went."

Noah sits next to his grandma, and we recount everything that happened this morning. "So, now we wait."

"And how do you feel?" Bianca asks Noah.

He looks at her and smiles. "Pretty damn good. I'm confident."

"What are the odds you end up with twins?" my dad asks.

I shrug. "Both embryos could become a fetus."

"Or they could split," my mom adds.

"Could you end up with four?" Dad's eyes are wide. He holds his arms out and then shakes his head. "I don't know if I can hold four at once."

My laugh falls short. I can't imagine four babies. I'd love and welcome them, but lord help me. "No one says you'd have to hold all four at the same time."

"Equal love for all," he says.

"Twins would be fun," Noah says. "We'll be happy with one, two, it doesn't matter, just as long as our little guy or girl is healthy." Noah winks at me.

I know he says one, but he wants eleven, so he has a full offensive line. Years ago, maybe. If things had been different for us. I don't even want to think what it will be like to have eleven children. I marvel and bow down to the women who do.

While everyone is talking and drinking fruity cocktails, I excuse myself and head toward the beach. There's a nice breeze and the tide is out. I walk until the sand becomes hard and then sit down. The sun will set soon. It's one of my favorite times of the day, especially when we are here. Watching it disappear, only to be replaced by the moon is one of the most magical sights to behold. The promise of a new day to come.

I don't know how long I'm out there for when my grandpa sits down next to me. I lean my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me. He's another reason I think about moving back to Beaumont. Aside from Elle, he's all I have left of my father. When I look at him, I like to pretend I'm seeing my father in him.

"It's beautiful here," he says. "I'm surprised Elle wanted to move back to Beaumont."

"Beaumont's family," I tell him. "There's a sense of peace and calm there. And you."

He chuckles lightly.

"A cruise, huh?"

"Yep. Bianca's idea," he says. "I never thought I'd go on a cruise, let alone with Bianca Westbury. She's changed though and apologized for all those times when she wasn't a good mother to Liam."

"That was kind of her."

"She loves you and Noah, that's for sure. Ever since Harrison picked us up at the airport, she's yammered on and on about how today was so important for you and how we need to shower you with love so the egg or whatever it's called knows how loved they'll be when they get here."

"Thanks, Grandpa. I really appreciate it."

He clears his throat. "The reason I came out here, other than to sit with my beautiful granddaughter, is to talk to you about your father."

"Oh?"

"I know you don't remember much of Mason. You and Elle were so young when he passed away, but I know your mom has made sure you girls have always known him. Even Harrison. He's a good guy and I'm happy your mom found him. He's raised you girls as his own and that's all a man like me can ask for. Now, I plan to say this to your sister when I get back from this vacation those ladies are taking me on, but since I may be who knows where, in the middle of the ocean when you find out if you're pregnant or not, I want you to know that you don't have to name your son Mason. I think a lot of people expect you or Elle to do this. When you and Noah sit down to think about names, remember he or she is their own person, and they need their own name."

I absorb his words. Truth is, I hadn't thought about names other than Noah Jr. which my husband has vetoed. "Thank you," I say to my grandpa knowing it took him a lot of courage to say those words to him. I wrap my arms around him, feeling his bones. He's lost weight, which I know happens with age, but I don't like it.

"Promise me."

"I promise to consider the name wisely," I tell him. "Mason's a great name, regardless. Noah might want to honor my father that way. He lost him too and I think sometimes people forget that. Sure, I was his daughter, but Noah had him for ten years. They were close. I think if Noah and I were to have a boy, Mason's probably on the list of names."

Grandpa nods. "Well promise me this—" He takes my hand and holds it. "Never let him think he has someone else's shoes to fill."

"We won't, Grandpa. But he will know what a great man he was. Just like you."

We turn at the sound of cackling coming our way.

"Lord help me," he says when his travel companions come into view.

I can't help but laugh as my grandma and Bianca maneuver through the sand with cocktails in their hands.

"You're going to have the time of your life, Grandpa. I can't wait to hear all about it."

"When you read about the man who went overboard, just know I loved you with all my heart," he says laughing.