july, age 28
Lucas wished it was raining. At least that way he would feel a little better about being stuck at work, but the sky was bright blue and cloudless, the sun shining strong, and he was sitting behind his desk. He wasn’t usually one to stare at the clock and wish away the time but when it was so close to lunch and he was so ready for a break, he found that his eyes naturally travelled to the digital time in the corner of his computer screen. Five to twelve. Three hundreds seconds.
He sighed again. That was too many seconds to waste watching the clock, so he dragged his stare up to the latest email in his inbox. A response from an author regarding the edits he had suggested. That one could wait until he had a little more time, rather than a rushed response hashed out in five minutes. Four and a half, even.
Instead, he scrolled down to something less vital, shooting off a cookie-cutter response that at least made him feel like he was doing something productive. Working his way through those kinds of emails was therapeutic in the most mundane kind of way, slowly and tediously emptying his inbox. He despised having a cluttered inbox as much as he despised having a cluttered home. Even more so, in fact: the inbox was totally under his control, whereas he wasn’t the only one contributing to the mess in the house.
Three minutes to go. The clock seemed to had slowed down by about two hundred percent, the length of a song suddenly feeling like an eternity. Four hours into the day and he was already ready for it to be over but after his thirty minutes for lunch, he would be right back in that seat until three o’clock rolled around and he could leave to pick Lucy up from her last day of Nursery.
Lucas loved his job. Ordinarily, he loved going into work each day, working through manuscripts and communicating with writers, collaborating with the other editors at Chess House, but today he just wasn’t feeling it. He wanted to be home with his family, and he couldn’t wait for summer to start. Today was his last day before the summer holidays, when he would have six uninterrupted weeks off. He and Asher had arranged the contract once they had gone back to work after becoming parents, organising school holidays off, and that hadn’t been a problem at all when Ishaana had been there to oversee the arrangements.
Lucas was fairly certain she would never leave the company. There were times she had vowed to retire and hand it over; there were times she had taken sabbaticals and ended up in a state of semi-retirement, but she would never fully leave it. She always came back to her baby. She could be seen around the office a few times a week, sometimes every day, and today was no different.
He had already spotted her twice that morning, and a third time when she had come over just to say hi. She was a big believer in befriending her employees and checking in with them on a regular basis, and she tried not to give Lucas special treatment just because he was his son-in-law, and the father of her only grandchildren.
It was about to be a fourth time. He made eye contact with her when he lifted his gaze from his computer screen and she seemed to lock onto him with a grin, walking straight over to him. She rested her hip against the desk, her arms folded.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“Fine, thanks,” he said, a little put off that she was asking him again. He wondered if his boredom was written all over his face. It most likely was. He wasn’t great at masking his emotions. “Not a lot of change from an hour ago, to be honest. Everything alright?”
“Yes indeed,” she said tucking her hair behind her ears. Despite going grey more than twenty years ago, Lucas had never actually seen a grey hair on her head. Although Ishaana advocated aging gracefully, never doing anything to hide her wrinkles, she was determined to keep her black hair. “I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?” he asked, a little warily. Her surprises were something else he had got used to, ranging anywhere from a new manuscript for him to work on to a raise, and everything in between. Once she had given him a token for him and Asher to go over for supper, hinting that it had been a while since they had all been together.
“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t!” she said. “You have to close your eyes, though.”
Lucas did as he was told. A few seconds passed before she told him to open them and when he did, he was greeted by his husband and his son. With a grin, he stood. “Asher! What’re you doing here?”
“I’m here to take you out for lunch,” he said, greeting Lucas with a kiss. “Timothy and I wanted some Daddy time.”
“And my surprise is that you’re taking the rest of the day off,” Ishaana said, stepping in. “It’s your last day anyway and there’s no point you hanging around for the sake of it. I can see that you’re distracted.” She swirled her finger around in front of his face. “Take the afternoon off and look after my boys.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely! In return, you can bring your family over for lunch at the weekend,” she said with a wink. “But you can’t go just yet.” She bent over the pram in front of Asher and scooped up Timothy, snuggling him against her chest and kissing his hair. “I need a minute with my grandson,” she said, cooing at the baby. Timothy laughed as his grandmother cuddled him, swaying him on her hip and chatting away to him. He gurgled in response, not even close to his first words, and Lucas’s heart jumped.
A few years ago, he had never given much thought to fatherhood. He had known it was something Asher wanted, and he had known that eventually he wanted to have children, but he hadn’t put a great deal of thought into it. He never would have thought he’d have two children before the age of thirty, that his family would be complete. Even after adopting Lucy, he had been sure that she would be his only child, but the world – and Asher – had had other plans.
The second time around, the adoption process had been different in almost every way. Already approved adoptive parents, with the grinning daughter to attest to the fact, they had sailed through the first stages. Just four months after deciding to adopt again, Timothy had become theirs the day he was born. He had no dark past, no history except for a scared eighteen-year-old girl who didn’t want to be a mother, and he had shown his parents what it was like to raise a child right from the start.
With Lucy, they had cut out the grizzly parts of parenthood. With Timothy, those milestones were laid out as their future. At eight weeks, he had smiled for the first time. At ten weeks, he had slept for eight hours at once – though that had proved to be a fluke. Last week, at three months old, he had laughed for the first time while Lucy was playing with him, shaking the toys in the jungle gym he lay beneath. Asher had managed to capture the moment on camera when he had been recording his children having fun together, and Lucas couldn’t count how many times he had watched that footage back.
Lucy loved her brother. She adored him. Each day before school, he was the last person she hugged and kissed and each day that she was picked up, she raced to Timothy’s pram rather than her father. She had taken on the role of his protector and his educator, teaching him everything she knew as though she had some kind of four-year-old wisdom. She certainly had a different way of looking at the world with childish simplicity and optimism, and Lucas loved to just listen to her talking to her brother.
One of her favourite things to do was to bottle feed him while she watched cartoons while she waited for her own supper, when she talked him through the characters on the screen and the stories playing out. She wanted to show him everything and take him everywhere and ever since Lucas and Asher had brought him home, she had lamented the fact that he couldn’t walk or talk.
The two of them shared a room, his cries no issue to Lucy when she took off her processors at night, and there were times that Lucas had walked past the room late at night, long after she should have been asleep, and he had heard her whispering to her baby brother. It was hard to say no to that when it warmed his heart so much.
After a couple of minutes, Ishaana reluctantly settled Timothy back into his pram and hugged Asher, kissing his cheek.
“See you soon, babes,” she said. “Dad and Sades and I are around all week – come over for lunch sometime.”
“Will do, Mum. Love you.”
“Love you more,” she said, waving at Timothy. “Have a great day!”
Lucas slipped his hand into Asher’s once he had packed up his things and logged out of his computer, breathing in the deliciously fresh air when he stepped out of the office and into the sun. Asher adjusted the hood on Timothy’s pram to protect him from the hot rays and squeezed Lucas’s hand, letting out a happy sigh. Summer was in full swing, and now they had six weeks of freedom.
“We missed you today,” he said, adjusting the carrier in his hand.
“I missed you guys too,” Lucas said. “You’ve got no idea how hard it is to focus when I know you two are at home.”
“Miss us no more – we’re going to have a guys lunch and then we’re going to get Lucy from school, and we’re going to kick off the summer in style.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows, always a little cautious about what Asher might say after that kind of lead-up, especially in public. “What kind of style would that be?”
“I was thinking … Chinese takeaway, pyjamas and wine,” he said. “How does that sound?”
Lucas almost groaned at the thought of a perfect night in with no work in the morning, surrounded by his family. “That sounds incredible,” he said, taking over the pram as they headed towards Coofee, and he grinned down at his son. Becoming father to a newborn baby had been an intense new learning curve, forcing him to rewire everything his brain had learnt about parenting, and he’d had no choice but to let go of his squeamishness. Asher wasn’t always around to change a dirty nappy, after all.
“Hi, Timothy!” he cooed, tickling the baby’s socked foot. “I missed you today but now we’ve got a whole six weeks, just you and me and Lucy and Papa, and I can’t wait.”
“I love you,” Asher said out of the blue as he watched Lucas, who turned to him with a blossoming beam.
“I love you too.”
*
Coofee was fairly busy during the lunchtime rush but Lucas snagged a table while Asher ordered, and he hauled Timothy out of the pram for a cuddle, stroking his soft hair. Half of his heritage was uncertain, his birth father an unknown entity, but his birth mother was Sri Lankan and her genes seemed to shine through, giving him a hilariously thick crop of black hair.
Cradling him in one arm, Lucas rested against the window to feed his baby when he began to fuss. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Timothy’s gaze as he fed him, the little boy staring up at him with huge, dark eyes as he drank from the bottle and reached for his father’s hand.
“Is this seat taken?”
He looked over his shoulder at the sound of a voice close by and he was met with his father standing right behind him, his hands on the seat next to him.
“Dad! Hi!”
Floyd grinned, his hand moving to Lucas’s shoulder. “Hey there, Lucas. I don’t mean to crash the party but is there any chance I … could crash the party?”
“Yeah, of course! Sorry, I’d hug you but…” He looked down at Timothy, grinning down at his son before he lifted his eyes to his father. “How are you?”
“I’m great, really great. Even better now,” he said as he slipped into the seat next to Lucas, playing with Timothy’s hand. “God, he’s so precious. He’s so precious. I miss having kids!”
Lucas feigned offence, pulling a face. “Um, excuse me, Dad, but you have three.”
Floyd laughed, shaking his head. “You know what I mean. You’re all in your twenties now. You’re not babies anymore – you don’t need me. You’ll be thirty next year!” He sighed, gazing at Timothy. “I still can’t believe you have your own babies. My baby has babies.”
“Hey, Floyd,” Asher said as he came over with sandwiches and drinks. “Look at that – three generations at one table.” Setting down the tray, he took out his camera and snapped a photo before he sat down opposite his father-in-law. “Sorry, if I’d known you were here I’d have got you something!”
“Oh, no, it’s all good – I was only nipping in to grab a slice of cake on my lunch break but I couldn’t resist my favourite grandson,” he said. “And my favourite son, of course. And my favourite son-in-law!”
“He is irresistible, isn’t he?” Asher said, tearing his sandwich in half.
“Who? Lucas or Timothy?” Floyd asked with a laugh. Lucas’s cheeks coloured and Asher gave him a wink.
“You can’t really ask me that,” he said. “Both, of course. But I was talking about Timothy. I think he’s about as cute as babies can be.”
“Affirmative.” Floyd nodded. “I’ve seen plenty of babies in my time and Timothy’s definitely in the top four. The other three are tied for first place, of course,” he said, nudging Lucas. “Can I hold him?” he asked when Timothy finished the bottle. “I’m an expert baby burper.”
“Be my guest,” Lucas said, though he was reluctant to let go of the warm baby. Floyd took him with the most illuminating grin, holding him and bouncing him on his lap before sitting him down and patting his back.
“He’s such a good baby,” he said. “Boys can be terrors.”
“I’m the only boy you’ve ever had,” Lucas said drily.
“And you were a terror!” Floyd cried. “You were a fussy eater and everything made you cry and you were so restless at night.”
“And nothing’s changed,” Asher added with a chuckle, which earnt him a glower and a shake of the head from his husband. “I’m joking. You usually sleep through the night now.”
While he and Floyd shared a laugh, Lucas glared at the two of them, but his faux anger dissipated when Timothy reached out for him, grabbing onto his finger. No matter how many times that had happened over the past twelve weeks, it never failed to put a smile on his face. There had been times when, in the midst of a bad day or an anxiety episode, Timothy had grabbed his finger and it had been enough to make him cry.
“Can I just borrow him for the day?” Floyd asked, kissing Timothy’s head. “The girls are off on holiday together and Cora’s going out with her friends tonight – it’s going to be a lonely evening in the Flores house.”
“Come over to ours,” Asher said. “Though I can promise the opposite of fancy – we’re just having a takeaway, probably stick a film on before Lucy goes to bed. You’re welcome to join us.”
Floyd’s interest was piqued at the offer. “You wouldn’t mind me joining like a sad old man?”
“You’re not that old,” Lucas said. “Actually, you’re the youngest of all Timothy’s grandads … by a long shot.”
“Great words of encouragement, Lucas. You should really be a motivational speaker,” Floyd joked. “That’d be great, though. If you’re sure.”
“If you’re ok with Chinese food and a family-friendly animated film, then you’re more than welcome,” Asher said. He took his son from his father-in-law and held him on his lap, bouncing him until he giggled and waved his hands at Lucas. “Seems like Timothy is happy for you to come over. Do you want grampa to come over later?”
Timothy gurgled and giggled, and Asher gave Floyd a thumbs up.
“I think that’s a yes,” he said, playing with Timothy’s hands. “We’re gonna have a great night, aren’t we?” He beamed and kissed his son’s head and Lucas’s whole body filled with love at the scene, his heart softening as he watched his husband and his baby, and he was struck with the incredible feeling of utter peace.
*
School was hectic when they arrived to pick up Lucy. The last day of term always was, with the children in Year Six moping about as a weepy clump reluctant to leave the safety of primary school and the crush of parents trying to pick up their children at the same time. The gates would open at three twenty and at nineteen minutes past three, there was already a long queue forming.
Lucas clicked Timothy’s carrier onto the pram frame and added a dab of suncream to his cheeks, covering him with the hood. It was hotter than England tended to get in July and there would no doubt be a stream of sweaty children pouring out of the classrooms as soon as they were released.
“Bit of a zoo, isn’t it?” Asher muttered, swigging from his water bottle as they headed towards the gates.
“Crazy,” Lucas said. “Why do they have to make Nursery the furthest class? We’ll have to fight through Year Six now.”
Asher chuckled and said, “You funny old thing. It’s only about a minute away.”
“A crazy minute,” Lucas said.
The gates opened and along with what seemed like thousands of other parents, they poured into the school playground and Lucas stoically headed straight for the furthest end of the building, around the corner. It was quieter down that end, where the children weren’t nearly so emotional about the year coming to an end. Down in Nursery and Reception, most of them didn’t really understand what that even meant.
Lucy wasn’t one of those. She knew exactly what the last day meant: it was the summer holidays now, which meant six weeks of fun and games and maybe even a holiday, and no more school nights for her parents to use as an excuse to cut a playdate short. As soon as Cora let her go, she ran over to her parents.
“It’s the holiday!” she cried out, jumping for joy, and she flung her cardigan and her bag at Asher before racing over to the pram. “Hi Timmy!” She curled her fingers around the edge of the pram and grinned at her brother, who gurgled back at her. “It’s summer! We can play every day.”
“You can indeed, hun,” Lucas said with a laugh, bending down to hug Lucy when she at last tore her attention away from the baby. “How was your day?”
“It was awesome,” she said, skipping alongside the pram as they headed back to the car, trying to avoid getting caught up in playground chatter that would lead them straight to a traffic jam on the way out.
“Oh yeah? What’d you do, sweetie?” Asher asked, wearing her bag over his shoulder and draping her cardigan over the pram handle.
“I got married,” she said with a grin. “Nana talked about weddings.”
“That sounds great, honey,” he said, looking up at Lucas. They both remembered the time that Cora had taught them about weddings. “Who did you marry?”
“Jack! He’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world. And the universe,” she added, her voice turning serious before she danced over to the car and tugged on the door handle until Asher unlocked the car and helped her into her seat while Lucas sorted out Timothy.
“Is it just me,” Asher said when he got in next to Lucas and buckled up, “or is Cora playing matchmaker?” He wiggled his fingers before settling them around the steering wheel. “I think your stepmother likes to meddle.”
*
Lucas wasn’t sure what it was about having a takeaway, whether the food was stodgier or he just ate more of it, but he felt incredibly full after supper, dropping down onto the sofa with a glass of wine. He was on bedtime duty with Lucy, but she had shunned him in favour of someone else.
“I want grampa to read me a story,” she said when she came downstairs in her pyjamas, her hairbrush in one hand and her book in the other.
“I’d love to read you a story, Luce,” Floyd said, grasping every opportunity to spend time with his grandchildren. “Though I’m not sure I can only read one. It might have to be two, or even three.”
Lucy grinned. “That’s good! I have lots of books.”
“Well, isn’t that just perfect?” He finished the last sip of his wine and left his glass on a coaster on the coffee table. “How about you say nanight to Daddy and Papa and we’ll go and read some stories?”
Lucy hopped across the room, far too much energy for bedtime, and threw her arms around Lucas first, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Nanight, Daddy,” she said, before scooting over to Asher. “Nanight, Papa.” Jumping off the sofa, she dropped to her knees and bent over Timothy, who was gurgling in his bouncer. She kissed each cheek and his forehead and his nose before snuggling him. “Nanight, Timmy. Love you, squishy baby.”
With that, she took her grandfather’s hand and led him upstairs, chattering away about the books she wanted to read, and the room felt like a tornado had passed when she left.
“I don’t know how she has so much energy after a full day of school,” Lucas said, swirling his wine before he took a sip. “I was always half dead when I got home.”
“You’re an introvert,” Asher said. “Something tells me Lucy’s an extrovert. She’s a people person, and she loves school.”
“I love that,” he mused. “I love how much she loves school. I wish I could’ve loved it that much.”
“You liked it sometimes,” Asher said, yawning when he moved to scoop up Timothy, who was beginning to fuss in time for his pre-bedtime feed.
“Only because of you,” Lucas said. “I remember, every time you were late I was so terrified you wouldn’t show up and I’d have to get through the day without you.” He smiled, wiping the memory. “Now I’ll never have to.”
Holding Timothy in one arm, en route to the kitchen to fetch a bottle, Asher bent over to kiss Lucas, cupping his cheek. “And look at us now,” he murmured. “Who’d have thought we’d end up here?”
“Me.”
“God, I love you so fucking much.” He kissed him again, his lips lingering on Lucas’s until Timothy reminded him with a wail that he was hungry. “Hey, it’s all good, little man. We’re gonna get you a bottle. Let’s go and find you some milk, eh?”
He bounced Timothy as he headed into the kitchen, furkling around with the formula and microwave until he returned after a few minutes and plumped down beside Lucas, lifting tired legs onto the sofa as he cradled their son and held the bottle to his mouth. It wasn’t even eight o’clock but he was shattered, yawning as he fed Timothy.
“Early night?” Lucas asked. Asher nodded, stifling another yawn.
“I’m absolutely pooped. This little man’s pretty full on.” He rested his legs over Lucas’s lap and shuffled down the sofa so he could rest back a little more, trying to find the most comfortable position that wouldn’t have his arm aching after thirty seconds. He propped up a cushion under his elbow and another behind his head, and he smiled. “This is the life.”
Half an hour passed before Floyd jogged down the stairs and returned to the armchair he had claimed as his own.
“She’s out like a light,” he said, snapping his fingers. “We got through two and a half stories.”
“With voices?” Lucas asked.
“Oh, yes. I pulled out every accent in the book,” Floyd said. He stretched out his legs, resting his heels on the coffee table, and fondly gazed at his grandson with a happy sigh. Timothy had fallen asleep on Asher’s chest, his eyelids flickering as he slept with his mouth open.
“So, I hear someone got married?”
“What?” Lucas asked.
“Lucy was telling me all about her wedding,” Floyd said with a grin. “She told me that she got married to a boy called Jack, and something about having to change the rabbit’s name now.”
“Time flies, huh?” Asher said. “It feels like just yesterday she was in Nursery and now she’s married. I can’t believe our little girl’s all grown up.” He wiped away a fake tear and rested his hand on Timothy’s back.
“It reminded me of you when you were her age, Lucas,” Floyd said, clasping his hands over his stomach. “Well, with all the wedding talk, anyway. I remember when you two got married when you were … were you five?”
“Nearly,” Lucas said. “Asher was.”
“You were so excited. You were always talking about it, even before it happened,” he said with a wistful smile. “And I remember that day, you and Cora told me all about it and that was the day Cora asked us to move in with her. She got all hyped up on your excitement.”
“I remember,” Lucas said fondly. He could see that day so clearly, even with the twenty-four years that had passed. It had sustained him through his early childhood like a comfort blanket; it had pained him throughout his teens; now it was his reality, even more than he had ever imagined it would be.
“So, this Jack boy, huh?” Floyd wiggled his eyebrows. Lucas scoffed and Asher laughed.
“He’s her best friend,” he said, idly stroking Timothy’s hair. “I imagine we’ll be seeing him a lot this summer.”
Floyd beamed. “Well, if she’s anything like her fathers, he’s the one.”
Asher raised his eyebrows and lifted his head, sitting up a little straighter with his hand on Timothy’s back to hold him against his chest. “He’s the one, huh?”
He glanced at Lucas, who looked back at him with a curious stare, and his grin grew.
“Wanna bet?”
+ – + – +
and with that . . .
head over heels is over
it’s been a wild ride and i can’t thank you all enough for sticking with it. i had never planned to write a #lusher story after the night train but it happened, and it was going to be short but … you know the drill. it ended up as my longest novel before too long. i can’t thank you enough for over 100,000 reads, that’s just absolutely insane! also, thanks a million for 5,000 followers. i appreciate each and every one of you so much!
a final reminder of ways to find me: i am almost always on twitter (lydiahephzibah) where i love to chat with you guys and post behind the scenes stuff, also on instagram (lydiahephzibah) for more aesthetic stuff, also nanowrimo (lydiahephzibah)see you on the other side!
– lydia
xoxo
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