Page 22 of Emergence: Prequel
We could all see how much Buck’s words meant to Kyle.
“Go on now, you boys get. We’ll move the party to the weekend you asked for,” I ordered them.
“Thanks, Pres,” both boys turned and left as soon as they’d uttered those words.
“And there’s the next generation right there,” Cash said quietly as they walked out of church. “Fuck, it makes me feel old,” he groaned, swiping a hand down his face. “When did we get old?” he grumbled.
His grumbling brought another round of laughter, and on that note, I called the end of Church. The next few weeks would be heavy enough, so we’d get our enjoyment where we could.
STACEY
Getting everyone comfortable with the new situation at home had taken a bit of time, and we’d had a few uncomfortable moments with so many different personalities in the house that had never lived together, but with a lot of communication and family meetings, we were slowly getting a routine down.
It had taken a little while for Ford to be comfortable letting me take over Poppy’s care. I understood, though; he’d been her sole caregiver since she was born. Eventually, with Rosie and Emily’s help, we got him to see it was okay to let go and just be her brother.
Emily fit in like she’d been one of us forever, maybe because she’d been an Old Lady in another club. The rest of us Old Ladies didn’t have to explain how the MC worked to her. She was comfortable right from the start. Although she’d said this club was nothing like the one she’d previously been part of. They’d been smaller, and the club had collapsed when most of the members were arrested, her husband being one of them. He’d then died while he was inside, but that was over fifteen years ago. She’d struggled on her own since then. They’d not had any children; as far as she was concerned, Ford and Poppy were her grandchildren.
We hadn’t sent any of the children back to school, and Lizzie was seriously considering homeschooling. There were only three weeks until summer break, so it wasn’t urgent at the moment.Hopefully, by the time summer was over, there’d be nothing to worry about. I knew something was going down but had no idea what, only that it was in hand. This was the part I hated the most about being an Old Lady—the not knowing. Personally, I thought the Crow MC had the right idea that their women knew most of what was happening in the club. Sometimes, I thought the not knowing was worse than knowing would be. At least if I knew what was coming, I’d be able to plan.
But I guess it was asking for far too much change in a short period of time. It was enough that Red had taken the club legit and they were now clean and that Roman was going to keep it that way. It made me feel a whole lot better about Kyle joining the MC. I’d always known he would, but I’d have liked it if he finished college first. It seemed the brothers were on board with him continuing his schooling, so there wasn’t anything holding him back now.
The one other change that had been made after I’d split up with Grudge, and it was one all the Old Ladies had celebrated when they’d been told, was that Roman had got rid of all the club whores when he took over.
It hadn’t caused as much pushback as he’d expected; it seemed that the brothers were getting tired of being pawed over. The money they no longer spent on housing, feeding, and medical for the club whores went to hiring a cleaning crew and someone who delivered ready-prepared food that the prospects just had to put in the oven.
It was working out better than expected. Not only were the brothers eating well, but the clubhouse was cleaner than it had ever been. The club had a more family feel to it than it used to have, and it was more cost-effective.
I’d been putting off going to the clubhouse since Roman and I’d got together, but now that I’d agreed to be his Old Lady, I’d not have a choice. Knowing that I wouldn’t be encountering the club whores made a big difference.
This weekend we were celebrating my agreeing to be his Old Lady. With all of us being on soft lockdown, the other Old Ladies and I’d organised all the food. We had salads ready in the fridge, meat marinating just waiting to go on the barbecue. All the desserts, including the cookies, were made, but before we got to that, we were going to watch Ford play in the last football game of the year.
“Oh, baby girl, look at how gorgeous you look,” I cooed at Poppy, blowing against her neck and making her squeal with giggles. Wanting everyone to know who Ford belonged to, I’d had a T-shirt made for Poppy with his number on it. The rest of us were wearing T-shirts with his face on them. Was he going to be embarrassed? More than likely, but he’d know he was loved all the same.
“You do look gorgeous,” Roman agreed from the doorway. Twirling around with Poppy in my arms, I grinned at him, thinking he was talking about her, but his eyes were firmly on me or where my ass had been when I was bent over the changing table.
Laughing, I walked over and tilted my head up for a kiss, knowing he’d never disappoint me.
“Hi, honey, is everyone ready to go?”
“Just waiting on you two ladies,” he informed me. His eyes drifted down my chest, and he grinned when he saw Ford’s face on me with his football number underneath. “He’s going to hate that,” Roman chuckled. “The boy hates being the centre of attention.”
I shrugged, replying, “He needs to know that his family supports him, and the town needs to know who his family is and who he belongs to. You should see the banner the girls have made. If he’s embarrassed by the shirts, wait until he sees that.”
Roman laughed. Taking Poppy from me, he guided us out of the bedroom and to the front door, where Rosie was waiting in a pair of jeans, sneakers, and her Ford T-shirt, bouncing excitedly on her toes, ponytail swinging, blue eyes sparkling with happiness. I don’t think I’d ever seen her like this, but she’d blossomed at not only having Kyle back home, but with Roman paying her attention and Ford falling easily into the role of brother with barely a blip.
“Aww, Poppy looks so cute in her T,” she gushed.
“Ahh fuck, baby, look at our girl. She’s gorgeous. Just like her momma,” Roman whispered soft enough that only I heard him.
Not saying anything in reply because there was nothing I could say. Rosie was gorgeous. Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed his cheek and went to loop my arm through Rosie’s.
“You look beautiful, sweetie. Are you ready to embarrass your brother?” I asked, opening the door to find Kyle waiting on the porch just about to knock. Shaking his head when he saw our T-shirts, “He’s going to hate the attention.”
“We know,” Rosie replied, “but this is what family does, so he’s just going to have to put up with it.”
“Okay, squirt,” Kyle replied, tugging on Rosie’s ponytail.
“Hey,” she huffed, mock-punching his shoulder. Used to how the two of them messed around, I walked down the stairs to the car, only to stop when Roman called out.