“No, you can’t. Now, go and help that girl of yours decide what to do next.”
“But Nan. It’s a lot. Feeding twelve people.”
“You’d be amazed how far I can stretch a couple of tins of salmon and a few white baps. I’m literally a modern-day Jesus feeding the five thousand from a few loaves and fishes.”
“You’re a miracle worker. But let me give you twenty quid to cover it.”
Nan placed her hand on his cheek. “Houses filled with love have elastic walls and elastic cupboards, lad. It’s always been my dream to have a big family. But I was only blessed with my two girls, and while one has left the family by choice, look how many people are in my house right now. This, feeding you all, seeing you grow, watching you fall in love with strong, capable women. It’s my best life, Luke. And if it takes every penny of my pension to feed you all, I’d willingly spend it. Because the fact that this house, my house, was the one you all chose as shelter today . . . well, that warms my heart. So don’t deprive me of doing my job, Luke, for the sake of twenty quid.”
For some reason, the words, softly spoken, caused his eyes and nose to tingle with the beginning of tears.
“Thanks, Nan.”
“Why don’t you and Willow start coming over for tea on a Tuesday? Ben and Alex come on a Saturday. Matt and Jase on a Sunday. When they’re in town. I’d say Monday, but I have bingo.”
He put his arms around her and hugged her. “Tuesdays it is. Thanks, Nan. For everything.”
Her small hands patted his back. “You’re welcome.”
Words couldn’t express the flood of love filling his heart as he stepped back into the living room and looked at his bandmates and his friends. “I have an idea, Willow. I think we should record a clip. You and me. No makeup or pretences. And just explain.”
He crouched in front of her. “We met. You got pregnant. We agreed to pretend for all the reasons the internet is fake and unkind. And we fell in love.”
“It’s as simple as that?” she asked.
“Yeah, flower. It’s as simple as that.”
“Can I do my hair?”
He touched the tousled edges of her messy bun. “Sure, if it makes you feel better.”
“And concealer, because I look like I died about several hours ago and rigor mortis is setting in.”
“Fine. A bit. Not because I’m trying to control you, but I think it’s time we took a stand on the pressure of trying to live a social-media-perfect life. It’s fake and doesn’t exist. Let them see you, Willow. Let them see the woman who’s supported her family all these years. Let them see the woman her father has attempted and failed to control. Let them see the woman who changed countries to protect her career. And let them see how much I love you, flower. Because I really fucking do.”
Willow dabbed the corner of her eye. “Don’t make me cry. And I love you too.”
Jase made a barfing sound, and the tension in the room broke into laughter.
As Cerys finished signing, Zoe said, “I wish someone would speak to me like that.”
Chaya fanned her face. “Same. Who knew Luke had hero potential in him?”
It took thirty minutes for everyone to finish eating, another fifteen to set up a spot to record. Because it was a nice day, everyone stepped out into Nan’s small yard so they could have some privacy.
“We should have a script,” Willow said.
“We don’t need a script.”
“Questions, then. A structure, maybe.”
“No. Because you can edit it together when we are done. Let’s just speak from our hearts, yeah?” He kissed her softly, her lips pliant beneath his. “We’ve got this.”
“Okay.”
Willow reached forward and pressed the record button. “Hey, everyone. This is going to be a different kind of video. It’s going to be an honest one. The truth. It’s the only statement we’re going to make.”
Willow looked at him and smiled. “It’s the story of a man and a woman who had the craziest meet-cute in history.” Her eyes never left his. “And while the story is wild. At its heart are two things: Social media can be fake, but real love isn’t.”
Luke kissed her again, not giving a shit it was being recorded. “No, it isn’t. Tell ’em, flower.”
Willow woke the following morning, back in their own apartment, wrapped up in Luke’s arms. And as memories of the day before began to filter through her mind—the sense of anger and confusion at Riley and her outrage that her father would attempt to sabotage her in this way—she buried deeper beneath the covers.
John and Kelly had both left sympathetic and apologetic messages informing her that Riley was in a whole heap of shit, and they wanted to hear from Willow as soon as she felt up to it. She’d messaged them back to say thank you, and that she’d call when the dust settled.
Luke slid a hand over her belly, holding both her and Cletus close. Cletus kicked firmly against the weight of his hand.
“Holy shit,” Luke cried, waking up fully and pushing himself up on one arm. “Did you feel that, flower?”
Willow yawned and placed her hand over his. “You can finally feel it?”
As she asked the question, Cletus obliged by kicking again. “Shit. That’s . . .” Luke kissed her stomach. “Hey, bud. Go easy on your mum. That was some kick. I’ll sign you up for kickboxing when you’re old enough, okay?” He shifted his hand so it was on top of hers, not beneath it. “That’s some wild shit.”
Willow smiled. “It is, isn’t it?”
“And you’ve been feeling that inside for a couple of weeks?”
“Yeah. He’s a squirmer.”
“He’s a miracle. We need to think of names.”
Willow turned onto her side. “We already have one, don’t we?”
Luke shook his head. “No. I mean, Cletus is going to stick as a nickname, but I don’t think we should lump the kid with it for real.”
She laughed and stroked his shoulder. “I thought we should name him after your dad.”
Luke stopped. Stopped moving, stopped circling her stomach, definitely stopped blinking as he stared at her wide eyed, and quite possibly stopped breathing given the way he exhaled and sucked in a breath moments later.
“For real?”
“For real.”
Luke swallowed hard. “I think Andrew should be his second name.”
“Whatever you want. I’d be happy with either.”
He kissed her softly. “I know you would. But I think Cletus should have a strong first name of his own.”
“What about Zale? It means strength of the sea.”
“Has a good ring to it. Zale Andrew Bryson. I like it.”
“Did we just name our baby in a three-minute conversation?”
“I think we did. They should put us in charge of world peace. We’d have it resolved by lunch time.”
Willow winced as Zale moved and landed on her bladder. “I need to go pee. I would do anything for there to be a cup of coffee waiting for me when I’m done.”
Luke pulled the covers back and jumped out of bed. “Your wish is my command.” He offered her his hand and helped her up.