Cassian

Jake clinks his glass of whisky against mine. Some of the amber liquid sloshes over the edge as I bring the glass to my lips, sipping the expensive stuff. It splatters across my lap and spots Penelope's dark jeans.

After the burn cascading down the back of my throat has worn off, I set my glass down and swipe a napkin from the centre of the table. "Shit," I curse. Using the napkin, I dab at the spots on her jeans. "Sorry, Pen. I didn't mean to splash you."

She takes a sip of her margarita, resting her head against my shoulder. "It's fine, Cassian. Don't worry."

Her eyes sweep the fine-dining restaurant we're settled in. Jake, Gemma, Patrick, Pen, and I are celebrating three months of Elemental Coffee being open in West Kelowna. We invited Ophelia, but she got tangled up in a business meeting. Her business trip was on Vancouver Island. We're supposed to meet up with her before she leaves to discuss some business topics. 

"Dude," Jake says, "don't waste the good stuff."

"Don't hit your glass so hard against mine," I retort.

Gemma, who has been eyeing the margarita that Penelope's drinking, expels a frustrated breath. "I'm done with this pregnancy," she frowns. A hand rests on her bulging stomach. "I want a margarita."

Jake loops his arm around Gemma's shoulders. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "You'll make it, Gem. Only a few more days."

Gemma tilts her chin to the high-vaulted ceilings. Ivy hangs down from them. "I want one as soon as Callan's born. I also want that vegetarian burger from Pure Café. The new place in the square." 

Jake presses a kiss to her cheek. "Noted. Only a few more days, Gem. You can do this." 

It's the truth. She's due any day. Well... that's what the doctors are saying. Her due date is March seventeenth. She could have the baby early or late. That remains to be seen.

Penelope and I arrived home about a week ago. Now that our business is running well under the watchful eyes of Ophelia, we're back in Saanich. Being back on Vancouver Island is nice. I've missed the salty air and ocean musk. The echoing of gulls in the morning. Even the rainy weather feels nice. I especially like it when the fog is low. Kind of how it is today.

But what's my favourite part about being home?

Penelope's moving in with me tomorrow. Her boxes are packed and piled by the front door. All we have to do is haul them out of her condo, load them into my truck, and then unload them at my place. Living together is nerve-wracking. Before deciding, we had a long conversation. We're testing the waters. After living together in West Kelowna, it seems fitting to try in a more realistic environment. Although we were working in the Okanagan, our time there felt borrowed. We didn't own the house we stayed in. Nor did we have much time together. Penelope was busy getting to know her long-lost twin brother, Patrick Collins. Both of us were busy with work. Don't get me wrong. The emotions were real. Time just wasn't entirely focused on us. 

Jake thinks we're taking this step too soon. I see where he's coming from. But Pen and I discussed the notion. We agreed to try. There's nothing wrong with trying. 

Groaning, Gemma drops her face into hands. "I'm never having another child. Never. Why I decided to have one is beyond me."

Patrick tosses back the rest of his whisky. "That's why I'm still single. As soon as I find a girlfriend, all Mom will do is ask when she'll be a grandmother. Putting my future girlfriend through a pregnancy... yeah, no thanks. Unless she wants to. I'm content with either. Don't give a fuck about what Mom wants."

At the mention of his mom, Patrick and Penelope wince. Sometimes, I swear they have twin telepathy. After the major blow-up at the Collins mansion, Patrick's been staying in Saanich with Gemma's brother, Reid. He has a basement suite. Until things simmer down at home, Patrick wants to avoid his family. As far as I know, Patrick  and Reid are good friends now. 

Tense silence fills the air. All I feel is sympathy for Patrick. I don't blame him. Finding out the man you've been calling your father for years isn't your father is heartbreaking. His mother lied to him. They separated Patrick and Pen at birth. Aside from Patrick and Pen meeting each other, nothing good has come from this. 

Patrick sighs, pushing his frosted glass away. Liquid sloshes over the side, as it's still half full. "Sorry, Penelope. My filter slips when I drink."

I cover my snort with a cough. Patrick is far from drunk. He's been sipping the same drink since we arrived. Jake and I have already polished off three each. Patrick's making me feel irresponsible. Even when his emotions are overpowering him, he's responsible. Damn that kid. 

Pen rests a hand on her brother's arm. "It's okay. There's no need to apologize."

Patrick flashes her a sympathetic smile. "That's enough about our fucked up family. We're here to celebrate Elemental Coffee's anniversary." He grabs his glass and toasts to Jake and I. "You guys are gonna go places."

Despite the pain Patrick's enduring, there is genuine awe in his tone. I clink my glass against his. "This would've been impossible without you and Pen. Don't forget that."

Patrick waves off my comment as he sips his drink.

Penelope squeezes my knee beneath the table. A rush of pleasure shoots down my spine. Damn her and her touch. It does shit to me.

I exchange a soft smile with her. Every day I see Pen, whenever I hold her hand, the moments we share... We take nothing for granted. In the beginning, I was a foolish soul. I put her through pain.

Realizing I love Penelope is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"So," Penelope says. She sets her drink down, licking the remnants of salt from her lips.

Urge punches me in the gut. I want to lick that salt from her lips, taste the afterglow of lime and tequila.

"We're set on a name, right?" Penelope continues.

I throw my arm around my girlfriend's shoulders. "Sure are. Callan Cassian Swift."

The smirk I throw at Gemma earns an eye roll from her. Then her usual stern Gemma look appears. It almost curdles my insides. She's scary when she's serious. "As much as we love Callan's godfather, his middle name will be an ode to Jake's dad. Callan William Swift. No exceptions."

I open my mouth.

Gemma cuts me off.

"And," she adds. "If I'm crazy enough to have another child and it's a girl, then her name will be Lacey Swift. After his mother."

My gaze shoots to Jake. "You're gonna let her boss you around?"

Jake shoots me a lopsided smirk. "Gem isn't bossy. Watch your mouth, Cassian. Otherwise you'll lose your role as godfather."

He's joking. This I know. Morgane is the godmother. Not Pen. Jake and Gemma each got to choose one each. It makes sense she would choose Morgane. They've been best friends since grade school. Just like Jake and I.

Picking a godmother isn't difficult when you have a friendship like Gemma and Morgane's. Gemma was worried about hurting Penelope's feelings, though. Ever since Penelope jumped onto our team, they've become good friends. Of course, Penelope was fine with not being chosen. She assured Gemma repeatedly.

Leaning over, I press a kiss to Pen's cheek. She blushes, trying to push me away. "You can't do that. Pen and I have to be the godparents. No one else."

Penelope rolls her eyes, slapping me on the chest. She's smiling while she does it.

I mock an offended expression.

Sighing, Jake glances at Gemma. He sips his whisky. "I can't deal with him much longer. He takes joking to another level."

Gemma smiles. "The banter is cute." She pushes away her glass of water. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to pee. Again."

As Gemma's walking away, she mutters incoherent words. Words that don't sound happy.

"How often does she pee?" I ask, wrinkling my nose.

Everyone stares at me. Their noses are wrinkled, too. But not for the same reason. Or, at least, not in the same context.

"What?" I ask.

Patricks snorts. "You can't ask why a pregnant woman pees so often. The answer is obvious... and personal."

Penelope brushes a strand of blonde hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Patrick has a point. The baby's putting pressure on her bladder. It's like... like having a weight sitting on your lower abdomen, adding more pressure than need be. I'm assuming it's uncomfortable."

Jake nods. He runs a hand through his hair, expelling a deep breath. "Trust me, Penelope. You're not far off. Gemma can't wait to have Callan. It'll be a relief for both of us."

Just then, the server arrives with our orders. They set down our orders, asking if we need anything else. None of us do, so they turn away and head back into the kitchen.

For the next few minutes, we enjoy the first bites of our food. My mushroom burger is smothered with a blue cheese spread, jalapeños, and grilled peaches. The bun is toasted.

It's fucking delicious.

Patrick is disgusted and confused.

I can't blame him. He knows the history of my family. Growing up, my mom was a hunter. Still does. She believes doing the work is how you get the reward. Mom wastes nothing when she catches a moose or deer. She'll use their hides to make soles for her shoes. The antlers make excellent chew toys for dogs. She'll thank the animal for its sacrifice.

Being vegetarian doesn't subtract from the respect I have for Mom. Her beliefs aren't affecting me. That's what a lot of people fail to realize when people share different opinions. Mom's beliefs and opinions don't dictate what I should believe it. 

I don't believe in killing animals. Period. After my experience with William and Jake... nah, I'm good. Personally, I don't think we have the right to kill animals. They were here before us. We should respect that.

"Something bothering you, Patrick?" I tease. "Aren't you a vegetarian, too?"

He's not. But I need to add an extra jab.

Penelope kicks me under the table. "Leave him alone." Her voice is a hushed whisper.

"Yes," Patrick nods. "Something is bothering me. Blue cheese and a mushroom. With grilled peaches."

"And crispy onions," I add.

Patrick wrinkles his nose. "What kind of combination is that? It sounds disgusting." He pauses, shooting daggers at me. "I'm not a vegetarian, but I've cut down my meat intake. I might vomit, though. Blue cheese? Yuck."

"Only you would mention the word vomit at the dinner table," I chuckle.

"Guys," Jake warns. "Stop discussing vomit over dinner or else I'm going to vomit all over everyone's dinners."

Penelope's mouth pulls to one side. She twirls some pasta around her fork. "Still experiencing the sympathetic pregnancy symptoms?"

Jake's cheeks turn pink. "Not as much. Every once in a while."

"Dude," Patrick says. Tufts of his curly blond hair pattern his forehead. He leans on his elbows, fork in hand. Lettuce and candied pecans stick to it. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. What women have to go through... it's not fair. I can't imagine standing there and doing nothing, either. We understand why you're having these side effects."

While I agree with Patrick, I still find it funny. Jake's suffering from couvade, also known as sympathetic pregnancy. Whenever his emotions are overwhelming, he'll throw up. He's also been complaining about bloating. The poor guy. He already feels helpless enough. The last thing he needs is more stress.

Jake flashes him a weak smile.

"How's Hanna doing?" I ask.

"Fine," Jake replies. "She might not be coming home this summer."

My burger falls to my plate. "WHAT?"

Penelope and Patrick exchange a look.

I ignore it.

Hanna always comes home during the summer. She's never missed one. She can't miss the summer holidays! I need to see her. For so long, Hanna's been like a sister to me. I miss her.

"She'll be here for Thanksgiving?" Jake offers.

"No."

I refuse to accept it.

Jake cocks an eyebrow. "Why are you so upset? She's living in Toronto. She has a job. Hanna's got her own life now."

"Bullshit," I reply. "Hanna would've texted me, telling me she got a job. I'm her big brother, too. She's not allowed to grow up."

Penelope squeezes my knee. "Maybe we can visit Hanna. Wouldn't that be fun? I've always wanted to see Toronto."

Pen's suggestion is brilliant. But I can't accept it. Hanna needs to return to the Island and work her usual summer job. Welcoming change with open arms is difficult. Especially when it involves not seeing my family.

I love Hanna. She'll always hold a special place in my heart. So will Jake. That's just what happens when you live together after a tragic event. When people are hurting, you need to step up and give them support. That's what I did for Jake and Hanna.

If Jake couldn't support Hanna, then I was there for her. And vice versa.

Hanna lost her confidence. She was shy and distraught. Which is understandable. She lost her parents. Almost lost her brother. Watching her grow into the young woman she is... watching her find strength... it was beautiful. It is beautiful. Hanna deserves the world after all the shit she's been through. No doubt about that.

She's the little sister I never had.

We're family.

And now I don't get to see her this summer.

We don't get to grab our usual ice cream in downtown Saanich.

Jake, Hanna, and I won't be able to do our annual hiking trip.

She won't be here to meet her nephew.

Or Patrick.

When I told her the story about Pen and Patrick, she wanted to meet him.

All my plans have gone up in flames.

Fuck.

I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the long strands. I'll need to get it cut soon. Summers with long hair result in too much sweating.

Just then, a familiar voice from my past returns.

"Uncle Cass. You've always been gullible. However, I find it funny you miss me more than my brother does."

"Han," Jake drawls. He leans back, smirking over my shoulder. "You know that's not true."

Wiping my hands on a napkin, I turn around and slide down from the booth. When I see her standing in the aisle, I note her ripped skinny jeans and grey cardigan. Her brown hair is tied up in a messy bun. A leather bag is slung over her shoulder.

Hanna's gotten taller since I last saw her—I swear. Or maybe she's wearing heels.

Do I care?

Nope.

Forgetting everyone at the table, I jog over to Hanna.

We meet halfway.

She throws her arms around my neck.

I pick her up, spinning us around. Tears prick my eyes as pride fills my chest. Hanna looks amazing. When we sent her off to Toronto, I was worried she'd have difficulties. She missed home at first, but it  seems she's okay now.

Setting her down, I throw my arm around her shoulders, leading her back to the table. My eyes find Jake. "You sly bastard. Did you set this up?"

"Actually," Jake smiles. He gets up and welcomes his sister with a hug. "It was all Hanna's idea. She wanted to surprise you."

"Really?"

"No," Hanna replies. She's being honest. Her honesty is brutal. "Gemma's due any day. I'm here so I can meet my nephew. I finished my courses early so I could come. The Dean made an exception."

I ruffle the kid's hair. She swats my hand away. "Keep telling yourself that, kid. You missed Uncle Cass."

Hanna's gaze flicks across our table. Sadness is prominent in her gaze, despite her glowing smile. "I miss everyone."