7. John

Chapter Seven

JOHN

I was lying in bed reading a book when I heard Will shriek, "Daddy!"

He came running into the room and hopped onto the bed next to me. "You stayed at Hayden's pretty late, boy. I thought we had a conversation about you getting home earlier. Did I not make myself clear?"

"I know. I know. But a bunch of the other guys showed up to see how it was coming along, and so we ended up putting the cribs together." Hayden's surrogate's due date was moving closer, and Will had been spending as much time as possible over there helping him plan and decorate the babies' nursery. I was proud of how much time and energy he was investing into this, but he was turning into a workaholic.

I chuckled. "You didn't leave Waylan that honor?"

Will scoffed. "If I'm going to do this for them, I'm going to do it right. I want to be just as hands on getting their room ready as I am when I redo rooms in our home." He pouted. "You can't be mad, Daddy. I'm almost done with the project and then…" He trailed off.

Reaching forward, I grabbed his hand." And then you'll be bored again, right?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure it'll be fine. I figure Hayden's going to need help with the babies when they come home. But…Waylan will be home with them for the first six weeks, so…" He trailed off again.

"I guess having something to do every day has really shown you how bored you really were before, hasn't it?" He grimaced, so I knew I was right. "Tell me, have you thought anymore about what you'd like to do?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, Daddy." He flopped down on the bed next to me, scooting close and throwing one leg over mine. "The only thing I really love is interior decorating, and what am I going to do, go through my friends and ask all of them if they have a room they want redone?" He groaned. "They'll think I'm so annoying."

"Or maybe they'd love your help, but they don't want to take advantage of you by not paying you." Which I thought was probably the case. A few of our friends had mentioned wishing they could find someone with Will's talent to come into their home and update their space. It always went right over Will's head, but looking back on it from a different perspective, I thought there might've been a whole lot of hint, hint, in there.

He sat up abruptly. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you. Hayden's trying to pay me. Can you imagine? I'm his friend, and I'm helping him out.It's not like I'm a professional. I told him to consider it my gift to the kids. It's not even like I paid for any of the materials. What is he thinking?"

I held in a sigh. Whether he liked it or not, he was getting paid for all of the time and effort he'd poured into the nursery. Waylan and I had discussed it several times, and if Will wouldn't name a price, Waylan planned to give him what he decided was fair. I knew my friend, and that would be a whole lot more than Will was comfortable with. He really wasn't getting how talented we all thought he was. I'd promised myself to let him work it out on his own, but it was time to help clear the path.

"What if you did this for a living?" I asked nonchalantly.

"What?" he asked, clueless to the fact I was still discussing interior design.

I chuckled. "Come here, boy." I pulled him down into my arms and held him close. Stroking his back, I kissed his temple, then said, "I think what you should do is exactly what you've been doing all these years, except reinventing our home over and over, you should let other people pay you for your expertise and do theirs."

"But I'm not a professional or anything, Daddy," he mumbled into my chest.

"You've taken plenty of classes over the years."

He leaned up on his elbow. "But that was just to learn specific things that I wanted to use here in our house."

"But didn't you learn other things along the way? In fact, haven't you completed multiple online certification programs?"

He wrinkled his nose. I finished one. The other one just pissed me off. I have no idea why they thought their designs were so amazing. I can tell you a million little things I would've done differently."

I stifled a laugh. Yeah, this was exactly what he needed to be doing. "What if I helped you?"

His eyebrows rose on his forehead. "Help me what?"

"What if I…" I stopped, collecting my thoughts. I had to word this perfectly so that he didn't think this was just about him being mine, instead of me wanting to invest how seriously talented I thought he was. "Okay, I've helped Roland with the Honey-Do Handyman," correct?"

"Yes."

"And would you say I've done a pretty decent job guiding him?"

"Yes, of course. Everyone's saying how amazing you've been. Roland sings your praises to anyone who will listen."

I wasn't really looking to have my ego stroked, but Will was doing it whether he meant to or not. Helping someone like Roland start his own endeavor was so much more satisfying than my real job. As much as I wasn't looking for a compliment, it didn't suck to know that Roland was pleased with what we'd discussed so far. It didn't suck at all.

"Daddy?" he asked, jerking me back to our conversation and away from that itch I felt to do something different and more satisfying.

"Oh, sorry, boy. What I'm saying is, what if I helped you launch your own interior design business?"

His eyes widened. "What?" he asked softly.

Since this was an idea I'd been pondering for a while, I knew it would take him a moment to catch up with me. Sitting up straight, I leaned against the headboard and arranged him next to me. "What I'm proposing is that you allow me to do all the same things for your new business that I'm doing for Roland. Including an initial investment."

"But…why would you do that? You already?—"

"None of that. This would be yours. You'd be responsible for the books, inventory, marketing, all of it. I'd help you, of course. And as your Daddy, I'd be happy to take on some of those tasks for you, but only if you ask me to. It'll be your business."

And I wanted this for him. All I'd ever wanted was to help my boy's dreams come true.

Will

You know those things that you only allow yourself to think about in the middle of the night or when you're all alone? Those things that maybe, just maybe, you'll discuss with your closest and bestest friend? There was a possibility that the last time I video chatted with Timothy that I told him I was having so much fun helping Hayden with his nursery that I wished I could do stuff like this all the time. It hadn't even occurred to me that it could be my job, and I'd make money. I'd do it for free as long as someone let me loose.

Timothy had asked me why I couldn't? Why didn't I feel like it was an option for me? I was only realizing now that Timothy had probably been thinking of me doing it as a career and getting paid, whereas I'd thought his question was odd. Like, who let people walk into their homes and design them? A paying customer, that was who.

"Boy?" John asked, tugging on a lock of my hair.

"I'm scared that I'll suck at it," I answered honestly.

John bestowed me with one of his fond smiles, the one special for me and his eyes twinkled in the lamplight. "In the eight years we've been together, you've never sucked at one thing you put your mind to. I know you've taken on this persona of being footloose and fancy free, but, boy, I know how much work it takes to run our calendar of social events for my firm, how often you go help out at the outreach center, how often you run around visiting your friends, making sure to check in with each and every one. I know you like people to think it's you just being frivolous with your time, but I know you."

"What do you mean?"

"I know how much these relationships mean to you. I know how much you never want your friends to feel alone and invisible," he said.

Invisible like I'd felt my whole life growing up. My eyes misted over and I blinked hard to fight back the moisture. "You knew what I was doing the whole time?" For years, I hadn't even realized I was doing that. John saw me like no one ever had, not even myself.

"Of course I did." He stroked his finger down my cheek and I tilted my head, letting him cup my cheek in the palm of his strong and capable hand. I was safe here.

"If I'd really thought you were wasting your days, I'd have strongly suggested that you get a job of some kind a long time ago. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you'd grown bored. I missed that somehow."

Good grief. He took so much on his shoulders. He was capable, but he couldn't read my damn mind. "No, Daddy. You didn't miss anything. I didn't want you to know. Like I said before, my life is just so blessed, I didn't feel like I had a right to complain."

"You're not throwing a temper tantrum or anything now. Wanting more, wanting to feel fulfilled is normal. And getting paid to share your talents with the world, that's not you being greedy. It's called loving what you do for a living. That's something that everyone should strive for."

"Even you?" I challenged, seeing an opportunity to make the point I'd been trying to hammer into his thick skull for months. I swear, he had Daddy-brain. Always so hyper aware of me and my needs that he forgot about himself.

He narrowed his eyes on me. "Don't get cheeky, boy."

I blew out a breath. "I'm not, Daddy. You've been so worried about my stress and my stomach aches, but all that has been from me worrying about you. I don't want you to be unhappy for the rest of your life either. I don't want you to be bored or dissatisfied like my parents or grow angry and bitter like yours. I want you to enjoy life the way you always make sure that I do."

He stroked his thumb over my temple. "My unhappiness with my career has really bothered you that much?"

"Yes, and I don't understand why you don't quit," I said for the millionth time.

He barked out a laugh. "Honestly, you had me half-sold on the idea when I first started finding baby magazines under the couch and cribs on your computer screen, but if you wanted a family, I wanted to give you and our children the best possible life, so I was determined to press on."

My heart clenched at the steadfastness of this man. Of course that was why he'd stay. Not because he was money hungry, or because he had to be the best, but because he loved me and wanted to take the best possible care of me. Because he loved the family that he thought I was imagining in my head and wanted to provide for all of us. "How did I get so lucky?" I asked.

John smiled and pressed his lips to mine, and we shared a sweet kiss. Before it could heat up like it knew it would after a conversation like this, I pulled back. "If I think about letting you be my angel donor, will you consider retiring and focusing on something that will make you happy, too?"

He huffed a little laugh. "And here you go again, getting your way with me."

"It's for your own good," I said sassily.

John snorted. "I love you so much, boy."

The thing was, he never had to tell me. Of course he did, all the time. But he was my rock and my stability, my anchor in my own whirlwind of a mind, and he kept me steady. He was my Unwavering Daddy, and I was the luckiest damn boy in the world.