Chapter 33

Nickie couldn't park in the drive. It was already filled with cars. Pulling to the curb, she chose a spot behind a familiar gray minivan. It belonged to Duncan's Aunt Liz. Nickie recognized it just as she could identify the owners to each of the vehicles parked in the drive and along the street.

This was her family now.

Her eyes burned from the long day at work debriefing Operation Fu Haizi. At least, that was what she told herself the burning was from. The paperwork from said operation may take another few weeks, but today was the Fourth of July, and everyone agreed they needed the night off.

As she walked up the drive, a breath of guilt blew over her. Not because she felt she should be at work, but because her hands were empty. Then there was the secret. She passed Duncan's Barracuda and shook her head. He allowed Xena in his Barracuda? What a good dad. Her feet stopped.

Dad. When had her life become normal? She closed her eyes, smiled and took a deep breath. The sound of children's laughter came from all sides of the Reed home. Deep bellows of male bantering provided the bass. Leaves from mature oaks and maples blew in the wind, cooling her face and creating a harmony to the melody.

She opened her eyes and continued her path. Few in this group were a traditional nuclear family. Aunts and uncles who raised their nephews. Stepparents, half-siblings and as Gloria's vehicle came into view... she added foster families to her silent declaration.

Since she had nothing to add to the spread that would be in the kitchen, she veered toward the side of the home. Her foster nephew and niece, Lela and Neva, danced around the pillars that stood guard near the front door on the wraparound porch. Evergreens towered at the corners of the home with a myriad of different plant things of colors that filled every space in between. The twins were so enthralled with their game that they didn't notice Nickie. Her eyes squinted as she smiled at them. They were at peace. They carried the childlike trust and safety every child should carry.

As she stepped off the drive, she glanced down at the grass that brushed the sides of her sandaled feet. The guys at the station had given her all kinds of grief over them. And the shorts? She would never live it down. If they only knew.

Before making the turn to the back, she stopped and watched. Duncan's uncle stood in the ankle-deep water of Black Creek that ran behind his home. It was the creek tattooed on Duncan's chest. She knew it so well, she could draw it herself, if she knew how to draw. The dark color of the water was an illusion created from the nearly black soil that lined the creek bed. Large stones scattered throughout. The arched bridge that crossed to the other side was weathered with age, making it all seem comfortable and right.

Andy Jr. may have been toddling fast these days but needed help navigating the stones at the bottom. She drew her brows together as Nathan hovered his free hand over the water. Craning her head, she noticed as his open palm and fingers inched toward the water. He thrust in his hand. A.J. squealed as Nathan pulled out a squirming, kicking thing about the size of his hand. Pinchers. The thing had pinchers. Oh, hell no.

She marched on around the corner and ran head-on into two of Liz's grandsons. Each carried an armful of water balloons, but Nickie was on the top of her game and dodged out of the way. One slid out of a frantic hand and smashed at her feet.

"We're sorry, Nickie. Um. Hello. Good to see you." Their faces turned red as they juggled the rest of the slippery weapons.

"It's just water. My legs will dry," she said.

"You won't... ya know... tell anyone about the balloons?"

She pretended to zip her lip. "Your secret's safe with me."

The trees in the back of Nathan and Brie's home were younger, replaced from a fire of their own. Life was full of crazy good and crazy hard. When the hard hit, people had a choice. Bitter or better. She nodded and stepped into the better that was this day.

* * *

Duncan wasn't sure if it was the hint of lavender that brushed his senses or the heartbeat of his wife that entered his proximity, but he lifted his head from the grill in front of him and spotted her.

She stood like a Greek goddess. The short waves of her dyed hair blew in the wind and exposed her bare shoulders. The lacy tank and khaki shorts were something he'd only seen her wear a handful of times. His chin nearly dropped to the charcoals at the sight of her thighs, her painted toes and the way the tank hugged her stomach. Her stomach.

She found him, smiled and dipped her chin as she made her way to him. "Nickie!" Duncan's cousin squealed and ran to her. Only because Hannah was raised as Duncan's baby sister did he allow her to interrupt the greeting between him and his Nickie.

He turned his attention to the grates full of burgers, brats and hot dogs as he overheard bits of their conversation over the noise. College water polo. Nickie's sandals. Graduation plans.

The two of them reminisced as Nickie's foster brother and his wife organized a pickup game of softball in the field behind Duncan's childhood home. Eidetic memory or not, he remembered each room and corner of this home and beyond every remodel and organization thereof. It was home.

Home.

He and his Nickie had much to decide. Where to live, to grow, to be. Could they ever create a fraction of what Nathan and Brie had created? A place. A home for their children and grandchildren. Their neighbors, colleagues.

No. They were not his aunt and uncle. They were Duncan Reed and Nickie Savage. The canvas that was their future was blissfully clean, their paint tray full of colors and brushes eagerly waiting to create and design.

His aunt came down the short deck stairs, carrying two platters of food, each with a mini tent of netting covering it from mid-summer insects. The three women laughed and reminisced until Nickie took one of the trays and followed Brie to the two eight-foot folding tables filled with food.

Nickie set down the plate and nodded her head as she listened to something Hannah explained. Nickie's sincerity would be without question if not for the way her feet backed up toward him as she did so. Brie placed a hand on Hannah's elbow, distracting her long enough for Nickie to get away.

"There you are," he said and took her by the shoulders. Friends and family be damned, he pulled her in and set his mouth on hers as he kissed her more than was appropriate for a family gathering. Catcalls erupted from spectators of all ages.

"Great. Now, the food is ruined," Eddy said from his lounge chair.

Duncan craned his head around Nickie's to see him clearly. "Please feel free to get your sorry ass up and man the grill, friend."

"Pretty boy burgers. Can't wait," he said and threw back the last swig of his can of beer. "Look at that. I'd better refill."

He walked toward the back door, passing Andy and Rose as they napped in the shade of the deck in the hammock that hung below. Andy slept behind her with his hand resting on his child that grew inside of her. Eddy took the stairs two at a time as Duncan's Aunt Liz passed him with two arms full of buns for the grilled meat.

Duncan set his chin on top of Nickie's head, inhaling her scent. Taking his wrists, she wrapped his arms around her waist. "I haven't seen you naked in ten hours," he whispered as they swayed.

"Mmm," she hummed. "We'll have plenty of time for that. Look." She lifted a hand and pointed to Jess Larsen. He and Nickie's foster mother sat in adjacent Adirondack chairs, leaning over the side table that separated them. "They're up to something."

"Making plans to save each and every trafficked child in central and South America, no doubt." His words were meant to be facetious, and yet.

She rotated in his arms, making the state of his pants inappropriate in mixed company. "Don't you and Andy have fireworks to prepare?"

"Ah," he said and tilted his head, memorizing every detail of the hair that lay around her face. "Our reputation of pyrotechnics withstands time."

The sound of a throat clearing from a familiar voice caused him to reflexively jump back. He turned his head and, indeed, Aunt Liz stood with her hands on her hips. Her gaze went from his face to Nickie's waist.

His body stiffened as Liz pointed to the hand Nickie rested on her stomach. "You're pregnant," she said loud enough for far too many to hear.

Nickie's gaze darted to his. Their eyes met. The steel gray that was his Nickie lit with light and peace. Together, they smiled from ear to ear.