28. Noah

28

When I was younger, I loved Halloween, it's because I got all the candy I wanted. In high school, there would always be some costume party and I hated trying to figure out what to wear and often went as myself. One time, I went as my dad. It was freaky because my female classmates acted like groupies, and it was unnerving. In college, we didn't dress up, but partied. In Portland, we only get the kids who live in the building knocking for candy, but now that I'm going to be a dad, I'm so damn excited for this holiday. I can't wait to take the babies out next year. They'll be alert and looking around, and I'm looking forward to picking out their costumes with Peyton.

Speaking of, she's waddling (her words, not mine) around my parent's house in a pumpkin costume. It's probably the cutest thing I've ever seen. The novelty of her being a pumpkin, with her ever expanding belly humors me.

She pauses mid-step as she comes toward me and grimaces. I'm out of my seat instantly and rushing toward her. "The boys?" I ask as she holds her side and nods. According to her doctor, because she has three babies growing inside of her, space is very limited, and she'll feel them moving and kicking more versus there only being one.

"They're brutal on my ribs," she says in between deep breaths.

"I'd take the brunt of it, if I could."

She offers me a weak smile. "I'm fine. Everything is perfect."

"Perfect" is how she describes everything as of late. I agree with her. Our life is perfect, even though we have a lot going on. The Pioneers have one loss, we're getting close to the playoffs, and even though I don't have a contract the owners assure me one is in the works. None of that even touches the fact Peyton and I are about to be parents. How can life not be perfect?

"You know, you're the cutest pumpkin in the patch," I tell her as I keep my hand on the small of her back and guide her to the recliner my dad bought for her. It's one of those remote-controlled ones, where it will literally help her stand. When he brought it home, she cried until she used it and then thanked him profusely.

"Your mom said the same thing when she brought the costume home for me."

"Are we handing candy out?"

She nods as she sits down. "Your mom and I are going to sit on the porch. This way the kids don't have to knock, and Stevie Nicks won't bark."

"I think Mack is taking her out tonight."

Peyton frowns. "I'd rather her stay home, Noah. Mack's a great kid and I trust him, but others . . ." she pauses and shakes her head. "It'll be dark, and I'll worry about her."

"Okay. She'll stay home. Mack will understand." I sit down on the couch, as close to her as I can get. Peyton presses the button to recline and I'm instantly jealous because the chair looks comfortable. "Maybe we'll get one of those for the new house." We were able to find a house perfectly situated between my parents and Nick, which I really like in case the babies need him in the middle of the night. We won't move in until renovations are done.

My grandma Bianca, offered to sell us her house—the one she shared with Sterling—and while it's big and perfect for our growing family, it's not perfect for my parents. My dad experienced so much childhood trauma there, not to mention how uninvited my mom felt. I wouldn't want to see my parents' agony when they came over. If they came over. It's much easier for my grandma to sell the house.

Peyton has her eyes closed. "So, you can rest your eyes while you're watching whatever sporting event is on TV?"

I chuckle. "Yep, while I'm shirtless and the triplets are snoozing on me."

She opens one eye. "I'm already pregnant. You don't need to keep trying to knock me up."

"If only," I say, laughing.

I turn the volume down, so she can take a nap. I know she's tired and exhausted most days. The triplets take a lot of her energy, and her hips are starting to hurt. She doesn't tell me she's in pain, but I can see it sometimes, especially when she's been on her feet for too long or when the boys start kicking her. So far, our little girl is an angel and only gives her mama love taps, as Peyton describes them. I do think she's kicking the crap out of her brothers though and showing them who's boss. She's not even here yet and she knows she'll be the princess of the family. While the kicking eventually starts to hurt Peyton, I love to feel the babies kick. It's such a unique feeling and very trippy to watch. Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing my part as their dad and Peyton's partner. Right now, all the burdens are on her, while I sit back and wait. When she's really uncomfortable, I'll talk to the babies or read to them in hopes they calm down. It's all I can really do right now, besides massage Peyton's back.

When the front door opens and screaming ensues as well as barking from Stevie Nicks, I realize I had fallen asleep as well. Peyton looks at me, wide eyed, as I stand to go see what the commotion is in the kitchen.

"You can't tell me what to do," Paige screams at the top of her lungs just as I enter the room. "That's all you ever do, tell me what I can and can't do and I'm tired of it."

"Go to your room, Paige." My mom points in the general direction of where the stairs are.

Paige crosses her arms and leans her hip against the counter. "No."

Oh shit.

Mom looks at me and then back at my sister. "I'm going to make things really simple here, Paige. My house. My rules. You will go to school. You will get good grades. You will respect your teachers. If these rules in regard to school are something you can't live by, then by all means see yourself out."

"You'd kick me out because I told my teacher to fuck off?"

"Paige!"

She looks at me. "What? Like you've never said fuck?"

"It's not that," I tell her. "You don't disrespect your teachers."

"Right! But he can disrespect me? Got it!"

"No, I'm not saying that. It's all in how you handle things. If he says something you find inappropriate, you tell Mom or Dad, and let them deal with it. You don't get yourself in trouble over something you can't control. Believe me, I've had my fair share of asshole teachers. They're out there and you'll always have one. But saying stupid shit back to them only makes things worse. You have Mom and Dad for a reason. Use them."

Paige's expression changes and she wipes at her cheeks. I hadn't noticed she was crying. "You don't get it."

"What don't I get?"

"You're you and you were this amazing quarterback and pitcher. Everyone loved you. These teachers look at me and ask me what I'm going to do because of Dad and you. Like, why am I not enough? Why do I have to be famous or some standout sports player? Why can't I just be me?"

"You can," I say as I step closer and wrap my arm around her shoulder. "You can be whatever you want to be. No one says you have to follow in mine or Dad's footsteps. I didn't."

"But you did, Noah. He played football and broke all these records. I can't even walk down the hall without seeing your names everywhere and then these teachers look at me and they don't see me, they see Liam Page's daughter or Noah Westbury's sister. The shadow is suffocating."

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "This isn't something Dad and I can control."

"I know."

"So, why take it out on Mom?"

Paige looks at our mom, who has tears streaming down her cheeks. She pushes off the counter and collapses into the outstretched arms of our mom. They hug and cry while I stand there, wondering what in the hell just happened and who this teacher is.

Do I pay a visit to the school? Is that the right thing to do?

Probably not, but then what adult asks a teenager how they're going to live up to what her brother and father did?

The front door slams, I jump, and Stevie Nicks starts in again, making sure everyone in the house knows someone is here. My heart races, knowing exactly what's going to happen. "We're in the kitchen," I say before my dad can holler anything. I meet him in the dining room and instantly step back when I see the rage in his eyes.

Shit. Is this what I have to look forward to when I'm a parent?

"Who was it?" Dad demands as Paige steps out of Mom's hold.

"Mr. Pendelgraf."

"Wait, what?" I ask.

"He thought it would be funny if he asked your sister if music was in her future or if she planned to take the path of a groupie."

My mouth drops open.

"Why didn't you tell me this in the car?" Mom asks.

Paige shrugs. "Because it's … his wife read that stupid book that lady wrote about Dad and . . . all I could think was to tell him to fuck off."

"So, you'd rather fight with me than tell me what's going on?" Mom covers her face with her hands. "Jesus, Paige. I'm not the enemy here. I'm your mom. I'm going to protect you from everything I can, especially fuckers that say shit like that."

"How did you find out?" Paige asks Dad.

"Mack called me," he tells her. "You should've called me."

"I was angry and then sad, and then just pissed off because sometimes I really hate your job. And yours," she says as she looks at me. "I'm this ordinary person and my teacher thinks I'm going to be some groupie. Like, is that how he sees me?"

"As long as it's not how you see yourself, you shouldn't care how others see you. Especially some middle-aged teacher who should know better than to imply . . ." Dad pauses. "Things."

The door opens again causing Stevie Nicks to bark. I head into the other room, hoping Peyton doesn't get up and almost collide with our dog as she races me to the front door. By the time I round the corner she's sitting in front of Mack, waiting for him to attach her leash so he can take her on a walk. We make eye contact briefly and I get the sense he knows what's going on right now.

"I'll be back in an hour," he says. "You have my location on your phone?"

I nod. "Yeah. Be careful," I tell him. There seems to be a group of teenagers who think it's okay to speed down the residential streets and not pay attention to the crosswalks. The town is working on hiring more police, but the process takes time, and the teens don't seem keen on listening to others.

As soon as the door closes and before I can head into the living room to check on Peyton, my dad stalks toward me.

"I'll be back later," Dad says.

"Liam, where are you going?" Mom asks, as he shuts the door. "Go with him," she says as she looks at me.

"Peyton."

"I've got her. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Heavy charge, especially since I'd like to do something stupid. "All right."

Outside, I jog to him as he swings his leg over his motorcycle. "Mom says I have to go with you. So, I'm either riding on the back or we're taking my car. And I don't want to piss Mom off any further," I say as I rock back on my heels. When he doesn't answer right away, I place my hand on his shoulder and get ready to claim the seat behind him.

"Fine." Dad gets off his bike and stomps toward my SUV. He gets in, slams the door before I have a chance to get in, and glares out the front window.

"To the school?"

"Yep."

I nod, start my car, and put it into drive. None of this is smart, but I'm also not a parent yet. On behalf of my sister, I'm pissed, but there are other ways to handle shit. Showing up at the school may or may not be the right way. I suppose it all depends on how my dad plans to handle things.

It doesn't take long before he's directing me to pull up in front of the school. I do and shut my car off. "What's the plan?"

The normally calm and collective Liam Page stares out the front window. "As her father, I need to protect her from men like that."

"And as her brother, I agree. However, storming into the school and confronting this piece of shit isn't the answer. Neither is waiting for him in the parking lot."

Dad's chest rises as he huffs out a breath. "He needs to know he's in the wrong."

"So, let's calmly walk into the office and see if Mr. Pendelgraf has a class right now. If he doesn't, they can ask him to come to the office, where witnesses will be present to hear what we have to say."

Dad must like this idea because he gets out of the car and once again slams my door, causing me to cringe. I'm afraid he's going to bust out the window with his aggression.

I get out and have to run to catch up with him at the door to the school. It's locked, which is honestly a good thing. Anything to slow my dad down. I press the button on the wall and wait for someone to come onto the intercom. When no one answers right away, I press it again.

"May I help you."

"Hi, yes. Mr. Westbury to see Mr. Pendelgraf," I say, not knowing who the current principal is or I would've used their name.

"And if he's not available, we need to see Mrs. Gayle," my dad adds.

The door buzzes and we walk in. Long gone is the freedom we used to have at school when you could walk in and wander the halls aimlessly. Now, there are stanchions attempting to prevent you from entering the atrium and directing you to the front office. Dad must know this because he doesn't even hesitate to head toward the office.

As we walk in, I'm assuming Mrs. Gayle is heading toward us, with her hand up. "I know why you're here. I've taken care of the situation, Mr. Westbury."

"How?"

"I sent Mr. Pendelgraf home and told him he can't come back until there's been a hearing with the school board, which Paige will be asked to attend."

It's like all the gusto has escaped from my dad. He lets out a long breath and nods. "Thanks. I came in here ready to fight for my daughter."

"Believe me, I'm fighting for her and all the others. What happened isn't okay and I won't tolerate it."

After they talk for a few more minutes, we head back to my car. Inside, Dad sighs. "The best thing you can do for your children is be their advocate. Whether you agree with the situation or not, you stand up for your kids, no matter what. The worst thing you can do as a parent is not support your child."

"Do you not believe Paige?"

"I do and even if I didn't, I'd still be here ready to beat the shit out of the teacher. I don't care who you are, you don't disparage people. More so, you don't do it if you're someone in a position of authority, which a teacher is."

We sit there for a moment. I absorb his words. I never really think about the years I spent without him, at least not as much as I did when I was younger. Mason was there for me, filling in the hole left by Liam, even though he had no idea. And then there was Nick, who is still active in my life. I glance at my dad and realize he has no one. His dad isn't in his life and my grandpa Preston doesn't really do much with him.

"I'm going to need your help with the triplets," I say.

He looks at me.

"Peyton and I don't know what we're doing and with three of them . . ."

"Your mom and I will be wherever you need us to be. As will Katelyn and Harrison. We're not going to let you and Peyton fail or struggle. I believe the grandmas have already started a calendar so they can be there to help, especially in the middle of the night. Same with Harrison and me. We have some time off and we're going to be there."

"Thanks, Dad."

He grips my shoulder. "I won't let you down or fail you like my father failed me."

Tears threaten to spill over. "I know you won't."