Chapter Text
Strange how Magnolia Winifred Wilkes weighs exactly the same as an unloaded AR15.
He guesses the weight before the nurse even tells them, guesses it as soon as she’s in his arms. It’s been nearly two years since he last took his from the gun safe and tested the balance in his palm, but he never forgot the pressure, the cold metal on his trigger finger, how much it weighed.
Unlike the semiautomatic he grew up knowing how to disassemble and reassemble with his eyes closed before the age of thirteen, his newborn daughter might actually have a chance at killing him.
Small and soft with rounded cheeks, at seventeen hours and sixteen minutes old, she’s hit Tora in the gut harder than any bullet ever has. She won’t kill him in the traditional sense, but in the sense that the hold she has on him is as strong and deep as the ocean, a persistent undertow that keeps pulling him out to sea. He lets her waves take him. He gratefully tastes the salt.
Poppy dozes in half raised hospital bed, finally resting after being gutted like goddamn fish. He’s seen a lot of blood in his life, but he’s never seen any that made him so nervous as the amount that pooled in her stomach when the doctor widened the incision. It was all by the books, down to the appointment for a rainy Tuesday morning in May, but he’d still been a nervous wreck. Still was, since he spent the best part of the night before Googling all the ways things could go monstrously wrong even after the baby was delivered. To count, there were forty-three ways.
Sometimes he wishes no one bothered to teach him how to read.
A nurse pokes her head in. She’s the nice one with a braided bun who didn’t give him the side eye when he helped Poppy check in the morning before at the front desk. Even now she doesn’t look at him like he’s about to toss his daughter out the sixth-floor window like a football as some of the others do.
Bless her.
“Everything alright?” she whispers as puts a four pack of premade newborn formula on the little baby cart with the clear, plastic bassinet they hadn’t even used yet.
He nods from his place in the weird pleather armchair by said baby-tossing window. “We’re good.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a bit to check on your wife. Just buzz the nurse’s station if you three need anything.”
Tora watches the door close behind her and goes back at staring at the small bundle in his arms. You three. Three of them. He was one, then became two, now he’s a part of a three. This tiny person has made him part of a new number.
“Magnolia,” he murmurs, tasting the name on his tongue.
Poppy had picked it from a big, worn book on flowers she found in her Granny’s attic—well, their attic now—even before she was pregnant. He never thought of actually saying it, using it, having it belong to anyone. But here she is. Magnolia.
She blinks up at him with her chocolate eyes and smacks her lips. He jumps at her sudden wakefulness and carefully stands, cradling her like…well, a football. She squirms, kicking out a leg and he realizes just a day before, that she’d been doing it inside Poppy’s stomach. The thought makes him grimace. For being fresh out the womb, the girl’s got one hell of a kick.
He assembles one of the premade formula bottles and goes back to the chair. A glance at Poppy shows him she’s still sleeping. He shifts Magolia in the crook of his arm and begins feeding her. She’s so fucking small, a tuft of black hair sticking off the top of her head. He brushes over it with a finger and wonders if that’s how his had looked.
He never gave too much thought into family before Poppy, hadn’t thought of himself as someone who was cut out for school runs and shared holidays and dance classes and Lego sets. It was this foreign concept that didn’t seem like it was ever going to be something he had to think about. But now that future is literally in his lap, and for the first time in a long ass time, Tora is scared shitless.
“I feel like I was hit by a bus,” Poppy says with a groan.
Tora looks up, placing the empty bottle on the low table beside him. “Hey, sweetheart.”
She smiles sleepily. “Hey. How long was I out?”
“Not long enough for what I saw yesterday.” He’d meant it as a joke, but she grimaces. “Don’t remind me.”
“Sorry, Bobby. Ya ready to eat yet?”
“I’ve been ready.”
“Well that nice nurse says ya allowed now. What do ya want?”
“Anything from Alice’s. I’m starving.”
She presses a button, raising the bed so she’s sitting. The way she winces make his chest tight. She went through so much to give him this, to create an entire life for him—with him. Not a single one of the dozen things called push presents he bought can make up for everything she’s done.
“I’ll call Alice and have her make a delivery. She’s been waitin’ for my call.”
“Do you think she’ll come up and visit?” Poppy holds her arms out for the baby. Their baby.
He slides her to Poppy. “Didn’t know if ya’d want company so soon. Don’t think I would if I just had my guts yanked out.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I’m glad you’re not a doctor. You have terrible bedside manner.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.”
“Anyway, I think I’d like to have some visitors. Not a lot. Just Erdene and Quincey and Alice. Damien and Gyu are okay too if they’d like to come.”
“Only if ya sure.”
“Totally. What’s the point in having the cutest baby if you can’t show her off?”
He smiles and brushes his fingers through her hair, still damp from the shower she’d taken. “I’ll order some food and make some calls. Ya gonna be alright if I step out? I don’t get good service in here. I can go get a nurse to—”
“Tora, I think I’ll survive ten minutes on my own.”
He isn’t entirely convinced but he kisses her and grabs his phone off the table. The hallway of the maternity ward is empty, and he nods at the nurses behind the desk before finding the strip of tall windows on the east wing of the hospital that had good enough service to make a few calls.
His first call’s to Alice, who immediately says she’ll start cooking double. His second is to Erdene, who tells him she’ll be there soon. Then he calls Quincey, who immediately begins sobbing about meeting the baby he’s already planning a lavish first birthday party for.
Poppy’s still sitting up in the bed when he comes back, Magnolia making a series of small, evenly spaced chirping noises. It’s not quite the same as the low battery alert on a smoke alarm, but not entirely unlike one of the squeaky toys Damien’s dog favors.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asks, leaning over the bed.
Magnolia blinks up at him and makes the noise again.
“What is that?” His heart stutters. This can’t be normal.
Poppy’s brows knit. “Are you talking about her hiccups?”
“Is that what they are?”
She giggles, then grimaces. “Don’t make me laugh for at least two more days. Please.”
“Sorry, Bobby.” He perches on the edge of the bed beside her and moves the fluffy, yellow blanket away from the baby’s face. “Didn’t know babies got the hiccups.”
“Of course. They’re human just like us.”
“Hard to imagine. Like…she don’t even got all her bones yet.”
Magnolia sneezes.
“Huh. Didn’t know they could do that either.”
Poppy reaches out a free hand and squeezes his arm. “You’re so funny.”
“Not tryin’ to be. Think she ate enough?”
“I think so.” She leans forward and sniffs. “But I think she could use a diaper change.”
He takes the baby at once, transferring her to the rolling bassinet-cabinet thing they were supposed to put the baby to sleep in. Like Tora would do that. He can’t imagine having her sleep in it while she has a perfectly good one at home with all the bells and whistles. Sure, the thing was half spaceship, but it seemed safer, more comfortable when they looked at it in the store.
Magnolia kicks her arms and legs, the movements jerky. He wonders if she’s cold without the blanket and puts a hand on her stomach and chest as he changes the diaper with the other. Her whole torso can fit in his palm. Absolutely wild.
There’s a knock at the door and Quincey pokes his head in with a “Hello, hello!”
Tora wraps the baby back up and turns to see him come in, arms heavy with gift bags and a massive vase of magnolia flowers. “Hey.”
“Shut up and let me see her,” he says quickly, putting the bags and vase on the table, his eyes never leaving the baby.
Poppy laughs, holding a pillow to her stomach. “Hi, Quincey.”
“Darling, I’ll lavish you with gifts in a moment, but I must see this baby, or I’ll absolutely die.” He holds out his hands. “Gimme.”
Tora rolls his eyes and hands Magnolia to him.
“Oh, my gods and goddesses, she’s an absolute delight!”
Poppy beams.
“Open your gifts, darling girl. I got you a few essentials while I was waiting to come pay homage to the tiger cub here.”
Tora takes the bags and sits on the edge of Poppy’s bed. He hands her the first one and she opens it, taking out a white box labeled Chanel. She looks up at Quincey. “A purse is essential?”
He flaps his hand as he rocks from side to side beside the window, never looking up. “Open it and you’ll understand why.”
She lids up the lid and unpackages a black purse, then an identical, smaller one. “Did you really buy the baby a Chanel bag?”
“It’s an investment, darling. If I start her collection now, then she’ll be miles ahead of the other girls in preschool.”
“I doubt she’s gonna go to one of those fancy prep schools and need one of these,” Tora says, stretching his legs out before him to cross his feet at the ankles.
“We have time to talk about that,” Quincey says as if he has any say at all.
Poppy unwraps a series of French face masks, fancy cookies from a far-off bakery he’d spent plenty of hours driving to for her midnight cravings, Gucci pajamas for the baby, a teddy bear from Tiffany’s, and a silver rattle heavy enough to knock out a toddler.
Poppy plucks one of the cookies from the golden gift box. She takes a bite and hums. “Thank you.”
“Oh, I was going to run to Burberry and see about a raincoat for the little miss. They’re calling for spring showers on Friday and we can’t have her unprepared. What size should I get?”
“I think we’re going to stick close to home,” Poppy tells him. “At least for a little.”
“Right. Perfect. And when will you be checking out?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Lovely. The crew will be done by then.” His back suddenly straightens and he shoots a glance at Tora.
He crosses his arms. “Crew?”
“Oh, just…it’s nothing.”
Tora raises a brow. “Don’t make me beat it outta ya, Quinceton.”
“How dare you make such violent threats in front of such a precious being.”
“Quinceton.” His name comes out as more of a growl.
“Okay, well, I was doing a little light reading on how to properly support near and dear new parents and some of the top things were helping to clean and cook. Now you know I can’t touch harsh cleaning products, but Steven—you remember Steven, honey—now he knows how to really get in the nooks and crannies. I hired his team to do a bit of washing up. Now for the food, I can’t just get you a frozen lasagna and slap it in oven. I’m not a monster. I had Magda—you know Magda, right? lovely bob haircut, owner of the Black Swan? Well, I hired her to prepare three meals and a handful of snacks…every day…for the next two months.” He takes a deep breath, as if he hadn’t the entire time he explained.
“That it?” Tora asks dryly?
“Wait,” Poppy pipes in. “I didn’t know you had a key.”
Quincey grimaces. “I didn’t have a key in the…traditional sense.”
“How the hell did ya get in my house?” Tora’s going to kill him if he’d broken anything. They’d only recently gotten the Felicia Bay property exactly how they wanted it and fully babyproofed.
“You’re not the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve.” He shifts Magnolia to the other arm.
“Ya know exactly one trick and it’s how to get on my last goddamn nerve. Now, how did ya get in my house?”
“I paid Brian two hundred dollars to pick the lock in the dead of night,” he confesses.
Tora shakes his head. “Ya two idiots. Ya coulda just asked.”
Quincey stops rocking. “You know, that actually didn’t occur to me.”
The door opens and Alice steps in, one of the boys that works at her shop behind her.
“How ya feelin’, little lamb?” Alice goes to Poppy first while the boy puts the bags of food on the already crowded table. It’s good Tora insisted on the biggest room.
“Like I was run over by a tractor.”
Alice opens a thermos and puts some tea into the little cup it came with. “This is the red bean tea. Sip it real slow. It’ll help.”
She smiles and cradles the cup. “Thanks, Alice.”
Tora rises from the bed and shifts the rolling tray over Poppy’s lap so he can set out her food. Alice goes to Quincey, moving the blanket around to see the baby.
“Ya still good with them here?” he asks lowly as he sets out a bowl of miso soup and opens a container of sushi rolls.
Poppy nods and picks up her chopsticks. “Of course. Quincey’s basically the kooky uncle and Alice is the closest Magnolia will ever have to a grandma. It’s nice that they came.” She pops a piece of fish into her mouth from another of the containers and moans. “I’ve been dying for this.”
“Plenty more where that came from,” Alice calls from the other side of the room.
Tora kisses the top of her head and sits back down, looking at his small family. They’d been through a lot over the years, from their youth in the clan to meeting Poppy to overthrowing Vincent to building their own lives from the pieces they found in the ashes. It’s been a complete and utter rollercoaster from start to finish. But now with Magnolia, he knows he’s about to step onto a whole new ride…
As a stay at home dad.