The Naz and Roz Chronicles - Chapter Twenty
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We’re back to the blog series for another chapter.
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Naz and Roz Blog Series
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Naz POV
“Where’s Dad?”
Katya shook her head, smiling. “Down the hall with Cross … someone—your father, but I’m not naming names, Naz—thought it might be unfair that Zeke saw the baby first. He was joking, mind, but Zeke took it seriously. He didn’t think it would be fair for him to see the baby first without Cross. They decided to wait.”
Naz, entirely unsurprised at that statement, laughed. That was his father, and the man’s best friend in a nutshell. He often wondered how Cross and Zeke felt that, after decades of being best friends, they had kids that ended up together, not to mention, giving them a grandbaby, now. “At least they work out their nonsense without involving anyone else.”
His fiancée’s mother pointed a finger at him, her rare smartass coming out to play. “And that is the only thing that saves them from one of us killing them in their sleep—we don’t tell them that, though.”
She wasn’t wrong.
He turned to Roz, who was slowly letting her mother help to get her dressed. Not that she was getting done up or anything. Comfy sweats, an oversized t-shirt, and a satin robe she had packed for after the birth. A shower and food had done wonders for Roz’s tiredness, and let her throw her hair up, before she convinced her mother it would be just fine if she didn’t go right back to sleep.
She could use a bit more rest, but she was determined to make the trip down the hall to the family waiting area so they could introduce the baby to everyone waiting. And it was a lot of people. They had big families.
It would be easier to do it all at once than a couple at a time coming in and out of the hospital room. At least then, Roz would be able to do this big one, and come back to sleep. She wouldn’t keep getting woken up. She said she didn’t mind, but … well, it was time for her to relax. Simple as that.
Her mother’s idea.
Naz agreed.
“You carry him down, okay?” Roz asked.
Naz nodded, smart enough to know he shouldn’t say he was planning to do that anyway. He couldn’t help it, really. Every single time he thought about putting his son down, something hurt in his chest, and he would just rather not. Besides, what did it matter? The baby boy liked to be held, and Naz liked to hold him.
Seemed simple to him.
An obvious answer.
Little Cross currently slept happily in his tight swaddle, a knit hat on his head to keep his ears warm, tucked in his father’s arms. He would sleep fine in Roz’s arms, too, but the second they tried to put him in the hospital-issued bassinet, he cried. And Naz swore all he heard when his son cried was fear. He wasn’t sure if that was normal or not, but he couldn’t stand to listen to the baby cry for them.
So fine.
He didn’t have to be put down.
You’ll spoil him, an older nurse had said. Teach him he’ll never have to sleep alone, and you’ll never have a bed to yourself again, young man.
Naz literally looked at the woman and asked, “And?”
She hadn’t liked that response.
Was he supposed to care?
Soon, the three headed out of the hospital room. Katya on one side of Roz, and Naz on the other, with his arm tucked around her waist, and the baby safely sleeping on the other side. She rested her head against him, watching the baby with a happy, pleased smile.
He took just enough of both their features—a perfect mix, really—and it was hard not to stare, and admire. They made him—he was theirs.
Naz was still thinking about that when they strolled into the family waiting room. All the chatter instantly quieted, and he swore he felt a half a dozen gazes turn on them. His parents, Roz’s father, their aunts and uncles—some who had come in from out of state just to see the baby. His grandparents, although hers had passed on a while ago, he suspected they were still looking out for them from above.
“Look at him.”
Naz grinned at his ma. “He’s perfect.”
And just like that, they were surrounded by people—their family. His father’s hands found his shoulders, squeezing in congratulations as he peered down at the baby with pride.
“God, he’s perfect,” Cross said.
Zeke laughed, stepping in beside his best friend to get a look at his grandson, as well. “Definitely worth saving your ass for all those years ago, Cross.”
“Watch it.”
“So, did we go with what you wanted for a name?” his mother asked.
Katya nodded. “They did.”
“Cross Zeke Donati.”
“And we differentiate how?” his grandfather asked.
Naz shrugged. “We’ll figure that out.”
The baby was passed from his arms, to his mother’s. It gave Naz a moment to talk to his grandmother, who cooed over him as much as she did the baby. And then he glanced around the room, realizing two people he expected to be up and greeting him hadn’t yet. At first, he thought his best friend, and Penny weren’t even there.
Then, he found them.
Tucked away in the corner of the room, Luca and Penny napped on chairs where they sat side by side. A blazer—Luca’s, he knew—had been thrown over Penny’s shoulder, and all that peeked out from her makeshift blanket was the color of her white-blonde hair.
“They went a bit crazy yesterday,” his father explained, his attention half on Naz, and half on the baby that his grandfather, Dante, was holding. “Wanted to make sure you and Roz didn’t have anything to worry about when you went home, so they cleaned, and took care of stuff outside, you know.”
Huh.
That was mildly interesting.
And sweet.
He appreciated it.
What Naz found more interesting was the fact that Penny was using Luca’s shoulder as a pillow. She had actually turned away from the rest of the room in her sleep, and more toward Luca. That was entirely unlike the young woman—not that she wouldn’t let people touch her, she did—for a hug, or a handshake, but very little else—although he knew she was uncomfortable with it. It was more that she didn’t let men touch her, and certainly not in a friendly way.
And yet, there she was.
Even in her sleep … he didn’t think she would do that unless she wanted to.
When had that happened?
Naz tried to run over the last few months in his mind since Penny had come to stay with them. More than once, Penny and Luca had been in the same room, or around each other. Once or twice, he picked her up from school and dropped her off at the house if something came up. But nothing felt out of the ordinary there, and he couldn’t draw back to a time when it felt or seemed like more than just Luca doing him a favor.
Penny was still seventeen.
Would be until the coming fall.
She hadn’t decided what she wanted to do after high school quite yet, and they didn’t push. Sometimes, people just needed extra time to work on themselves, and he and Roz had already settled on making sure Penny had exactly that for as long as she needed. The girl never had a safe place to land before them, so they didn’t mind being it.
His friend, though …
Luca had a solid six years on her seventeen. He knew what Penny had been through in her young life. He didn’t think his friend would cross a line with Penny … certainly not in that way, anyhow.
Maybe he was making more of two people sleeping on chairs than he should. Maybe nothing had happened at all. Maybe something was just starting to happen.
That felt … right.
Like he was seeing the beginnings of something, and perhaps he had been the first and only person to notice it.
Huh.
“Her graduation is in a week,” Naz said.
“Hmm, son?”
“Penny. Her graduation is in a week.”
Cross smiled. “I suspect it is going to be a busy next few days, then.”
Yeah.
He thought so, too.
As for the Luca thing …
Well, Naz figured might as well wait it out and see what happened. If anything did, of course. Who could say one way or the other?
But shit.
Didn’t that girl deserve to be happy?
He thought so.
It was the hows of it all that concerned him, but he figured … well, the details weren’t for him to work out. That was on them.
“What about Junior?” someone asked. “To differentiate?”
“No one is calling my namesake Junior,” his father muttered.
“Fine, Cross, Jesus.”
Naz’s attention went back to his family. He could deal with whatever else another time. This was more important.
And Roz.
Her, too.
“You feeling good?” he asked his girl.
She beamed up at him, still tucked into his side. “Perfect, Naz.”
Well, that was the goal.
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