Melissa Brielle-Renae Jackson blinked tiredly as she hummed along with the mellow sound of Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars and made quick work of folding the baby blue onesie in her hands. She dropped it on top of the other baby clothes in the white laundry basket and pushed the laundry basket to the side. She stood up and reached for the laundry basket of towels and blankets, propping it against her hip and holding it with one hand while she opened the washer with the other hand. She unceremoniously emptied the basket into the washer and added some laundry detergent before slamming it shut and turning the knob. The gush of hot water filling the washer drowned out the dulcet guitar spilling out of her iPod dock station.

"Baby girl," Jackson's sleepy voice startled her and she nearly jumped out of her own skin at the sound of her husband's voice. She dropped the laundry basket and nearly tripped over her own two feet, obviously not quite alert enough to be aware of her surroundings. His hoarse laugh mixed roughly with the sound of the gushing water and the music that had momentarily broken the still silence of the room. He made his way over to her and in one fluid movement, grabbed the laundry basket and lifted his wife up with his other arm, gently dropping her on the washing machine. "Baby girl, what are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep." Melissa pouted despite the fact that her eyelids drooped with exhaustion and the dark circles under eyes disputed her claim of insomnia.

"Sweetheart," Jackson cradled her head in his hands and kissed her temple tenderly. "What's really going on?"

"Still a bad liar, eh?" Melissa looked at her husband skeptically.

"Very. Twenty-six years and you still doubt my ability to tell when you're lying." Jackson laughed, reminding his wife that he had known her since they were both babies.

Melissa dropped her head onto her husband's shoulder, reveling the warmth of her husband. They had been best friends since birth, nearly twenty-seven years now. The strong friendship had made their marriage much easier; knowing that she actually genuinely liked the person she was marrying had made the life-long commitment much easier to enter into. That said, she sometimes forgot that he did know her, better than she knew herself most of the time and could tell pretty easily when she was lying.

"Mom." Melissa breathed into his t-shirt.

"What happened?" Jackson asked her softly, stroking her hair gently. "Talk to me, baby?"

"It's been twelve years since everything happened with Mom and her alcoholism." Melissa's eyes clouded with residual anger both at her mother and at the situation that her mother had put them in. "She calls me and tells me that she wants to see Alex. Twelve years, she wants nothing to do with me unless it benefits her...and now all of a sudden she wants to see Alex. She thinks I can't tell she hasn't stopped drinking? She thinks I don't know that her latest boy toy called and asked Dad to send him a list of rehabs that could help her?"

"He did what?" Jackson looked down at his wife in shock.

"Yeah," Melissa looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears. "Her little boyfriend, Paul, I think his name is called Dad. Paul's the only boyfriend that's even tolerable. He's not even her boyfriend I don't think, just a friend. Anyway, he called Dad and asked him for a list of rehab centers out of state. He thinks that if he can get her out of California he can sober her up."

"Sounds like he wants to help her." Jackson noted, waiting for his wife to continue.

"That's not the point, Jackson!" Melissa snapped, trying to hide the tears streaming down her face. "The point is, my alcoholic mother wants to see Alex and the thought of letting her anywhere near him makes me hate her even more."

"Melissa!" Jackson scolded her gently, taking her face in his hands and tilting her head up to meet her eyes. "Hey, you listen to me now. You do not hate your mother. You might hate what she is and what she's done but you do not nor have you ever hated her."

"Jackson..." Melissa whimpered, closing her eyes.

"Baby, we've been through this." Jackson whispered softly, kissing her forehead. "Alex is our son. Ours. If you don't want her around him then she won't be."

"I don't." Melissa reluctantly opened her eyes and looked up at her husband. "I don't."

"I know." Jackson nodded in understanding, releasing her. He wrapped his arm around her, gathering her against his chest and gently stroking her hair with the other hand. She relaxed easily, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear. He kissed her head and soothed the tension from her body; "C'mon, babe, Alex will be up in a few hours. You haven't been sleeping as it is and if you don't sleep now, you won't be in any mood to get up at six with a cranky and hungry three month old."

"Laundry..." Melissa motioned to the still running washing machine and the basket of laundry she had yet to wash.

"It can wait until later." Jackson shook his head, nuzzling his face into her hair. "You need sleep. You're stressed and exhausted."

"Okay.." Melissa hummed, her breathing slowing down and evening out as the peaceful abyss of unconsciousness pulled her in. "Love you."

"I love you too, silly girl."

He gently lifted her up into his arms, cradling her against him and carried her out of the laundry room and up the stairs. He tucked her into bed and quietly left the room to turn the light off in the laundry room and grab her iPod from her dock station. He turned her iPod off, set it next to her cell phone on the table by the door and snuck back upstairs. He peeked in on his son and found the little boy wiggling restlessly around in his crib.

"Hey, little man." Jackson rubbed his son's head with his fingertips. "Go back to sleep. Mommy needs some sleep."

He marveled at the brown silk beneath his fingers and the dark sapphire eyes that stared back at him with such innocence, Jackson just knew that both him and Melissa would be protective parents. He already knew Melissa was, if her outburst in the laundry room was any indication. He smiled tenderly as his son settled and the dark blue orbs were hidden behind his pale eyelids; eyelashes forming dark crescents against chubby cheeks.

"Goodnight little man." Jackson smiled, rubbing his son's one more time before pulling his hand away. "Love you."

xxx

"Good morning, Alex."

With the utmost care, Melissa picked up her three month old and carried him over to the dresser that stood against the opposite wall. She pulled open the top drawer and grabbed a nursing blanket and a towel before making her way to the rocking chair and settling in to feed her hungry son. She popped the first few buttons of her blouse and carefully adjusted her son against her breast. She covered her nursing son with the blanket and tossed the towel over her shoulder.

"Alex, you have a grandma that you've never met before." Melissa murmured to her son, stroking his head tenderly. "She wasn't around much for Mommy and she has a few problems. I'm afraid to let her come near you but I'm also afraid you'll grow up thinking I kept her from you. I don't want you to ever think that I kept her from you. If you ever feel that way, well then I'll tell you my reasons."

Jackson leaned against the wall outside the door, just out Melissa's view and listened to his wife talk to their three month old. Alexander Richard Jackson was going to be a well-loved little kid but to hear Melissa express these fears also brought about the real possibility that his relationship with his only living grandmother would be virtually non-existent. That was unless by some miracle, Sandra Wu decided to straighten her act up, which Jackson found highly unlikely. Yes, he had Melissa's father Evan and Jackson's adoptive parents, Auntie Bel and Uncle Pat, but the question of would that be enough lingered in his mind.

"You have me and Daddy," His wife's voice brought him back to reality. "You have Grandpa Evan. Auntie Bel and Uncle Pat. You have Uncle Ian and Aunt Jory. I think you're going to be just fine, kiddo."

"He is, Mel. He is." He whispered.

And as he peeked in to watch his wife nurse Alex, he couldn't help but think that even if his son didn't have all of his grandparents, he would still be loved. The intensity with which Melissa loved the bright eyed little boy was unmatched. She was so fiercely protective of him - of both of them, really - that the thought of her mother coming around with her boy-toys and her alcohol was enough to infuriate Melissa to the point of hatred.

They'd be just fine.

He was sure of it.