Welcome to the Queendom

Chapter Forty-Seven

"You know, I forgot how easy being three weeks, almost four weeks pregnant was for me," officially Mrs. Good stated as she placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of everyone that night. It was unusually cold and rainy for an April night, but then again, it was still Spring and wouldn't officially warm up until a good portion into June.
I pulled Dean's sweater up over my hands before placing them on either side of the coffee mug as Dean glared at his drink.
"Now, once I got into 7 weeks with the both of you," Mrs. Good continued, pointing between her two sons, "that's when things got stressful. You guys had me up all night." She laughed.
"Speaking of stressful," Dean mumbled, rubbing his temples.
I swiped a hand over his cheek comfortingly. He gave me a crooked smile before swirling his spoon around in the cup.
Mrs. Good sat on her husband's lap.
"I remember both your births perfectly. Jackson, you had me in a labor for 10 hours. I was getting ready to beat you out," she recalled happily. "I almost had to have a C-section for you, Dean, but luckily not, because you know how much I hate surgery. 16 hours in labor, can you believe that?"
"You're scaring me, Mrs. Good," I teased.
She waved her hand at me dismissively. "There's nothing to be scared of," she assured. "When it's all over, you're gonna be looking down at that little bundle and saying, 'The pain was definitely worth it.'"
I looked over at Dean and saw that he was staring at my stomach. He placed his hand on it and rubbed it. I rested one of my hands over his and smiled.
"I'm glad everyone's here," Mrs. Good sighed dreamily. "It makes me happy seeing all of your faces together again. And spotting a new face in the family," I blushed, "makes the moment even better."
Mrs. Good gazed at her husband and kissed him.
"We have to get to bed now," Dean and Jackson said abruptly, jumping from their seats.
"It's only 9:00," Mrs. Good and I pointed out at the same time.
"Yeah, but we need to get our sleep. We're leaving tomorrow morning, remember?" Dean reminded me.
"We don't have to leave tomorrow morning," I replied.
"Yes, we do," Dean insisted through clenched teeth. "Come on."
Mrs. Good whined. "I hate it when you leave, Dean," she told him. "You never actually stay."
"Sorry, but that's what I signed up for when I took on this job," he explained. "Chelsea, you coming?"
"In a minute," I said as he padded up the stairs.
"And what's your excuse?" Mr. Good asked Jackson.
"It's not an excuse," Jackson scoffed. "Have you know, I have work tomorrow."
"You never work on Sundays," Mr. Good pointed out.
"What do you know?" Jackson snapped slightly. "I may want to dog-sit tomorrow to earn a little extra cash." Then he stomped up the case, leaving me with the newly weds.
"Boys," I sighed. "How were you able to raise two of them?"
"It was not easy," Mrs. Good sighed making Mr. Good clear his throat awkwardly. "But I got through it and they turned out to be pretty cool kids."
I smiled. "Well, goodnight, guys."
"Goodnight, Chelsea."
"What took you so long?" Dean questioned when I closed our bedroom door behind me.
"I wasn't even down there for a minute after you left," I told him. "Stop being like that when your parents are affectionate to each other. You and Jackson."
"Well sorry for not being able to keep my food down," he said sarcastically.
I sighed. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"
He plopped down on the bed and kicked his shoes off. "I don't understand why you can't be like Jackson."
"Jackson did the same thing I did," Dean pointed out.
"I know that, but throughout this whole day not once did he complain. Not once did you see a scowl on his face. He may not like the situation just as much as you, but he showed support," I explained.
Dean gritted his teeth. "Jackson and I, are two completely difference people," he said lowly. "He's the people-pleaser, I could really care less. He was the popular one in high school. He was the quarterback of the football team, got all A's, and had girls throwing themselves at him. I, on the other hand, didn't get as good of grades. I hid myself in the library at lunchtime, got in fights almost everyday and scared all the girls away."
"Not Madison," I pointed out.
He glared at me. "Madison's a different story. She likes bad boys."
"And you like crazy chicks," I stated with a shrug.
"The point I'm making is," Dean went on, "is that Jackson and I may have similar feelings on something, but we handle it two polar opposite ways most often than not. Goodnight."
He slipped under the covers and turned the lamp on his side off. I kicked my shoes and pants off and went over to the window. I peeked through one of the wooden shutters and saw that the rain was coming down harder than ever. Thunder clapped somewhere close by and lightning flashed across the sky. I looked down and saw two silhouettes standing by the side of the house, deep in a heated conversation.
I squinted my eyes and could make out Jackson dark hair peeking out from his hood, getting soaked. The other person, I couldn't really see, but I had to guess that it was Mr. Good. The way Jackson's hands were flying as he talked and how he sometimes pointed an angry finger in his father's face, I knew they were having an argument. What about, was completely beyond me. If only it wasn't raining; I could probably make out their voices.
"Chelsea," Dean said, scaring me, "what are you doing?"
"Just go to sleep," I told him.
I looked back out the window and saw that Jackson waved his hand at his father dismissively and stomped over to his car. I heard the screech of his tires as he aggressively pulled away from the curb. I let go of the shutter and went back to the bed.