They’ve got some group video call happening that my family would never be able to manage. Too many people, not enough money for the tech, and why have a video call when everyone can crowd together in one cramped house? But with Axel’s family, there are just the four of them. No one talking over the others. No need to redo headcounts every minute.
His mom has a warm smile and salt-and-pepper hair that’s cut stylishly short, a funky bright scarf wrapped around her neck, and a smile that matches both her sons’. She looks like the professor she is.
His brother, Anders, I’ve seen around the building before but not this close. He’s outside somewhere, a pair of aviators blocking his eyes and the washed blue of Chicago’s November sky above him as he walks.
His sister, Astrid, shares her mother’s features but has so much hair that even up in that messy bun, it’s everywhere. She’s the baby of the family and completely adorable in a slouchy hoodie and shorts, sitting on her bed.
They’re a nice-looking group.
“Axel, honey, I’m sorry to rush you, but I’ve got papers to grade before my next class.” His mom writes something then puts her pen down, focus returning to the call with a smile. “What’s the good news you’ve got to share with us?”
“Endorsement deal with Lamborghini?” Anders asks, flashing a wink and smile at someone he passes on the street. He makes a face and angles the phone so we get to see the retreating form of a curvaceous blonde. “They want to give us all cars?”
Ugh.
Astrid snorts, rolling her eyes. “Earmuffs, Mom. More likely some STD cream. PS, Anders, Nadia says to tell you she wouldn’t date you if you had the last working dick in all humanity.”
I manage to hold back the laugh trying to chase it.
Axel’s mom sighs, picks up her pen, and writes something else.
Anders shakes his head. “Dating isn’t on offer. But you tell Nadia—”
“Guys!” Axel flicks the casing next to the mic and all three of them return their focus to him, wearing smiles that match the ones Axel has always thrown around. Not now, though.
His mom catches on first, her brows pulling together, focus sharpening. “Honey?”
He takes a deep breath. “I met a girl last season.”
Everyone is silent, and I find myself holding my own breath.
“She wasn’t from Chicago, and we didn’t stay in touch. But a few days ago, she came back. Pregnant.”
“Fuck that shit, bro!” Anders belts out, all signs of the playful guy from seconds ago gone in a blink. “Lawyer up, man. No communication until two— not one —two independent paternity tests come back saying you’re the sperm donor.”
“Axel—” his mom tries to cut in as Astrid shakes her head, muttering something her brother’s tirade keeps cutting off.
So, I guess they do talk over each other.
“Opportunistic bullshit. Don’t talk to her.” Anders’s breath is coming hard, a ceiling behind him now instead of sky. “Not a damn word that doesn’t go through the lawyers.”
Axel clears his throat. “Yeah, not really a problem with the talking. Shelly is back in Pennsylvania already, but she wasn’t like that. She didn’t want money. I offered it. I told her I’d marry her. Said I’d support her if she’d stay but—” He breaks off, and my heart aches for all of them.
After a breath, he waves me over, the silence from the video call stretching as I pass Axel his son.
There’s a round of choked responses and gasps. And then a fist banging on the front door. Which is when I notice the carpet now filling the screen around Anders’s lower legs looks familiar.
Axel huffs. “Just let him in.”
Crossing to the door, I pull it open wide as Anders Erikson blows past, arm outstretched in accusation.
“What. The Fuck. Is that?” he demands, cheeks sucking in, red face dotted with sweat.
Axel turns back to the camera. “This is Otto.”
Axel
My mom and Astrid have a million questions. Nora heads back to her room as I give them the basics, including the rushed paternity test, Shelly’s choice to give Otto up, and her last-minute decision to offer me the chance to be his father, even though she couldn’t be his mother.
My mom’s concerned about me not being prepared for my life to change so drastically without any notice, but already having a live-in nanny goes a long way toward easing her concerns.
Thank you, Nora.
My sister wants to see Otto’s “baby chicken legs” and “sugar snap toes” and is furious that I went and had a baby right after she moved to Portland.
When our time’s up, Mom’s planning a visit when the term ends, and Astrid thinks she can fly back for Christmas next month.
I disconnect the call and turn to Anders, who’s staring at Otto with a mulish frown.
“Stop giving my baby the stink eye.”
“Fuck off. I’m not.”
Mmhmm.
I pull out my phone and take a picture of him, then send it with the message “Stink Eye.”
Anders checks and lets out a humorless laugh, wiping a hand over his face. “How are you going to do this, man?”
I take a breath and carefully adjust my son as I stand. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think the last baby I held was Cousin Beth’s when I was ten for about two minutes. But then I had hockey practice and had to leave. I didn’t babysit. I’ve never dated anyone with a kid. But it doesn’t matter. Because I’m all this guy has, so I’m going to learn how to be the dad he needs.”
Anders pushes out of his chair and shakes his head. “No, man. You’re not all he has. Never.” And then he gives me a grudging wave. “Let Uncle Anders have a turn.”
“Absolutely,” I say through a grin, emotion making my voice thick. “But wash your hands first. Yeah, don’t give me that look, either. I’m serious.”
While Anders washes up, I head back to Nora’s room and knock. She opens the door, pulling her earbuds out as she does.
No scowl. No snippy comment. But then it’s not like my teammates woke her up at four a.m. today. At least not my Slayers teammates. The newest addition to team Erikson may very well have.
She directs a soft smile at my son, not me. “Ready for me to take him?”
“Nah, I just wanted to tell you, you didn’t need to hide out in here all evening. Hell, have you even eaten today?”
Her hand moves to her belly. “I made some coffee this morning and had one of your protein bars this afternoon, but then I sort of lost track. Now that you mention it, though, I’m kind of starving.”
“Me too.” I nod for her to follow me back to the living room. “What do you like? I’ll order in.”
“Anything is fine.”
“Thai,” Anders chirps, drying his hands on his jeans. “That fat noodle stuff with the basil and chicken. Get two. And spring rolls. And satay. And stuff for you guys too.”
“Mmm, satay,” Nora hums, rubbing her hands together. “Can I share, or is all that really just for you?”
His head comes up and, eyes locking on Nora, his jaw drops.
“Anders,” I growl in warning. But when has this punk ever listened to me?