My throat locked up so Brandon answered for me, “We do. We think it's important for him to know.”
Mom nodded while Bree handed us a large scrapbook. “If for whatever reason you didn't, that would be fine, no one would blame you for that. But in case you do, we made this so you could show Liam who Chase was, instead of just telling him stories.”
Brandon sat the book on his lap and opened it, so the top was on mine. I gasped as we flipped through page after page of Chase. Pictures from right after he was born, to funny toddler, first day of school to sports and first time surfing. Watching him grow up right before my eyes was incredible, and as we neared the end, tears started falling down my face. This was the Chase I had known. The tall handsome tatted up artist. There were pictures of all the guys at the house he had rented for his friends to live in over the last two years, pictures of him and Bree, ones of him at the shop, and pictures of us together at the end. The first was on my birthday after Chase and I had come back downstairs. He was standing behind me, holding the picture of my second ultrasound on top of where my small bump had been and I had my neck craned up so we could kiss. A second was of us sitting on the tailgate of his truck with Bree and Konrad at the beach one day. The last two were hard for me, but I was so thankful they were in there. One was after Chase's last class of college, we had our arms wrapped around each other and foreheads pressed together. The next was of the last full night of his life, we were standing outside Mom and Dad's talking. I remember that conversation perfectly, he was giving me reasons for him not to go to the party, and I was standing my ground telling him he had to go. I hadn't even known someone took a picture of us, but it was beautiful. The sun was setting behind us, Chase was kneeling on the driveway and I was laughing while running my hands through his shaggy blond hair. He was holding my stomach with his face close enough that his nose was touching my belly button. Chase kept saying that if Gummy Bear kicked for him, he wasn't going to the party, so Chase had continued to talk to my belly, hoping the baby would wake up. But he hadn't and eventually Chase had left. That had been our last happy time together.
When we shut the book, Brandon turned to me and ran his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping the tears away and pressed a soft kiss to each cheek. He stood up and walked to the other side of the room, pulling Mom out of her chair, he wrapped his big arms around her and thanked her while she cried. This was one of the many reasons why I loved him. Beyond the tough guy exterior, was the most gentle and caring heart. What Chase and I had done had ultimately crushed Brandon. He had quietly stepped aside when he found out instead of taking it out on either of us. He had been there for me when I thought Chase broke my heart, and had helped me out of my catatonic mourning period when he died. He loved me and my baby, despite the mistakes I had made, and was now holding and thanking Chase's mother for a book to help us tell Liam stories of “how great his dad was”, as Brandon had put it that day. After Mom finished crying, I hugged her tightly while Brandon hugged Bree, Dad and Konrad.
“Brandon,” Mom croaked and cleared her throat, “I hope you know how much we love you too. We're so happy that you and Harper are together, we couldn't imagine her with anyone else. We know you'll take care of her and Liam.”
“I will. Forever.” He vowed.
16
I was uncomfortable. I was tired of no one letting me do anything for myself. I was tired of constantly laying down, and I was just flat out tired. I was so big I felt like I looked like a whale, even though Brandon continuously told me how beautiful I was. He let me complain at all hours of the day, and always smiled at me. I knew he was working hard to hold back his laughter, and I was grateful for it. I knew how ridiculous I was being, I just couldn't seem to stop and if he had laughed, I'd probably snap at him.
We'd had another appointment two weeks ago, and Dr. Lowdry was even more concerned that I wouldn't make it much longer. Per her instructions, we already had the hospital bag packed, the rear facing car seat was already put in my Expedition and I was no longer allowed to help cook. I had the most absurd urge to get on my hands and knees, clean the entire house and go through all the drawers in the nursery to make sure everything was where I wanted it. Again. Of course I wasn't allowed, so I laid on the couch, and grumbled to myself or talked to my little Liam.
Brandon had started school again almost three weeks ago, but thankfully he'd talked to his academic adviser before the semester started and found out he only needed to take two more classes and he'd be able to graduate in December, a week before our wedding. He was absolutely amazing, he was always getting me anything I needed, and things I hadn't even thought to ask for. When he was at school, he made sure Carrie or Mom were here to keep me company because he knew how stir crazy I was getting. The only problem was the numerous fights he was doing. He'd told Crow once the baby was born he was going to take a couple months off from fighting, and even though we had more than enough money to get us by for a few years, he was doing fights every other night anywhere from LA to San Diego to save up as much as possible. I couldn't complain too much, he'd made over ten grand last week alone, but I didn't like the fights anyway, and he only let me come with everyone if it was going to be a lame match. He was afraid of the crowds with the bigger fights, so more often than not, I sat on the bed freaking out until he called to tell me he'd won.
He had dropped me off at Mom's this morning, so I could go to lunch and have a pedicure with her and Bree, and picked me back up for my thirty-six week appointment. Like I said, they wouldn't let me do anything for myself anymore. No driving and no painting my own toes, not like I usually did them or could reach them anyway, but still. I wasn't allowed.