"Whatcha thinkin' about, Jack-sooon?" came a high pitched voice from behind Jax. Startled, he turned around to find Opie with a mouthful of helium, giggling like a chipmunk on speed. Jax punched him in the gut, forcing him to expel the helium from his lungs. Opie coughed.

"I was thinking about Gemma, jackass."

"Well speak of the devil," Opie choked out, still struggling to regulate his breathing. Jax turned toward the front of the house just in time to see a lipstick red Camaro veer into the driveway, kicking dirt and rocks into the peaceful afternoon air. "Mommy Dearest has arrived for the birthday festivities."

"Oh shit," Jax muttered, coming to a sudden realization. He dropped the bag of deflated balloons to the ground and bolted into the house, hoping to head his mother off at the front door. Gemma didn't do too well with surprises, and she was in for a hell of one.

By the time Jax reached the front door, he could hear Gemma's stilettos clicking up the porch steps. He hurried outside to meet her.

"Hi, Mom," he said, embracing her. He hadn't seen her in months, and was surprised by how much he'd genuinely missed her. She smelled just like she always did- of cigarettes and the expensive perfume she'd been wearing for as long as Jax could remember.

"Hi, baby," she replied, hugging him tightly. "Where's my birthday boy?" She let go of Jax and moved toward the house, but Jax spun her around and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hoping to distract her.

"Hey, Wayne!" Jax called out, guiding his mother back down the porch steps and away from the house. She resisted at first, then decided a moment alone with her son wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"How's he doin'?" Jax asked Gemma as they made their way to Wayne, who was slowly walking toward the house, his arms full of gifts. Gemma had offered to help him, but Wayne was a stubborn, prideful man, even moreso the sicker he got.

"Still kickin'," Gemma said, smiling at Wayne as shielded her eyes from the sun with her free hand. Jax wasn't sure if he would ever get used to the fact that his mother was in a relationship with Wayne Unser, but he was trying.

Despite the weirdness, Jax had to admit that there was something refreshing about Unser and Gemma's bond. They genuinely loved each other. For Wayne, it was a romantic love. Jax suspected it had been ever since he and Gemma were kids. For Gemma, it was something different. She loved Unser as a friend, and felt a duty to take care of him during his final days after all he'd done for her and the club over the years. So when she moved out of Clay's house and into Jax and Tara's old place, she invited Wayne to upgrade from his tin can in the woods and move in with her. Being that he was battling end stage cancer, a sexual relationship was off the table, so Gemma was all too happy to let Wayne sleep in her bed and call her his girlfriend if it made him happy.

Jax was proud of his mom, in a way, for doing something so generous for somebody who could give her nothing in return. There were no ulterior motives involved, no hidden agendas- just two people giving each other comfort and normalcy after years of drama and violence and danger. Gemma was happy, and so was Wayne. So happy that he ignored the whispers around town about Gemma's secret affair with Tig. Jax shuddered at the thought. It was probably best for him not to put too much thought into his mom's fucked up love life. He was already paying enough money to his therapist.

Once they were far enough from the house that little ears couldn't hear the rant Gemma was likely to go on, Jax took a deep breath.

"Mom, we need to talk." Gemma put her perfectly manicured hands on her hips, turning to glare at her son. As Unser approached, Jax took the gifts he was holding from him. "Let me help you with those," he said. Unser looked offended.

"Thanks, son, but I had it."

Jax smiled. "I know you did, old man. Just tryin' to be a good host." Gemma linked her arm through Unser's and patted him on the shoulder. He was satisfied holding onto her instead of a pile of presents, so he let it go.

"Jackson," Gemma scolded, bringing the conversation back to topic. "What's going on?" Jax took a deep breath. There was no easy way to say it.

"Trinity's here." Gemma's face turned pale and she fixed her face into a scowl.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I didn't know she was comin' until she got here today. I guess Chibs' daughter came to visit him for a while and Trinity decided to come with her and surprise me." Gemma tapped her heel impatiently, trying to decide how to respond.

"What about her whore mother?" she sneered.

"Maureen's not here," Jax assured her. "Just Trinity. Can you be cool about it?"

Gemma chuckled. "Sweetheart, you don't need to be worried about me. You need to be worried about how your wife's going to handle having the sister you almost fucked sleeping under your roof." Unser choked on his surprise. Clearly, that wasn't a story Gemma had shared with him.

"Tara knows about me and Trinity," Jax explained.

"Really?" Gemma was skeptical. Jax nodded. "You told your wife that you almost cheated on her with your sister? What did that look like?"

"I didn't cheat on Tara, Mom," Jax insisted, annoyed. "And she's fine with it." He remembered the night he told Tara about what happened between him and Trinity in Belfast, before they found out they had a father in common. He and Tara were lying in bed, reveling in the aftermath of an intense love making session, talking about anything and everything. She started asking him questions about what Belfast was like, what John Teller's other family was like, and he knew he had to tell her.

He was so worried about her reaction, afraid she'd be horrified and disgusted. She was shocked at first, and stared at her husband for a good long minute before erupting in hysterical laughter. The more Jax insisted that there was nothing funny about it, the harder she laughed. One of the things Jax loved most about his wife was how unconditional her love for him was. He could literally tell her anything, even that he'd nearly had sex with his own sister, and she never judged him.

"Well hell," Gemma said, waving her hand in the air nonchalantly. "If Tara doesn't care, I don't care."

"You promise?" Jax pressed, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Yes, Jackson, I promise." His mother slapped him playfully in the chest, then started the trek back toward the house, her arm still linked through Wayne's. Jax followed behind them with Abel's gifts.

"Just can't promise the same if your step-father shows up with that twat he's fucking," Gemma called back over her shoulder. Jax opened his mouth to object, but then thought better of it. He would deal with that nightmare if and when Clay bothered to show up.

Jax piled Abel's presents onto the gift table Tara had set up in the family room, then followed Gemma into the kitchen to make sure she played nice as Unser headed outside to find Opie. Gemma was civil to Tara most of the time now, as she'd had three years to get over Tara "stealing" her boys from her, but sometimes, well, Gemma was still Gemma.

Lyla was standing over the stove making hamburger patties and putting them on a tray to take out to the grill. Tara was at the counter, struggling to cut a massive watermelon into edible slices. From the sound of it, Trinity and the kids had made their way to the back yard.

"Let me do that," Gemma offered, reaching a hand out to Tara. Not a fan of accepting Gemma's help, Tara declined.

"I can handle it," Tara said as politely as she could manage. She tolerated Gemma, but only in small doses. Secretly, she wished Gemma had chosen her life with Clay over Jax and the boys. She knew it was selfish of her, but her mother-in-law had become one of her least favorite people. For as smart as Gemma was, she understood absolutely nothing about boundaries. Ignoring Tara, as she so often did, Gemma opened a drawer and started rummaging around.

"Here," she said, pulling out a giant carving fork and pointing it at Tara, "at least use this to steady the watermelon while you cut." Panic surged through Jax as he lunged at his mother, wide eyed, ripping the carving fork from her hand. Caught off guard, Gemma stumbled backward into the counter, nearly falling.

"Jax, what the hell?" Tara yelled. Jax looked at Tara, then at Gemma, then at Lyla, who was trying to stifle a laugh. He didn't know what to say. If he told them the real reason the sight of his mother holding a carving fork terrified him, they would think he was insane.

"Jesus, Mom, I'm sorry," he said, offering an apologetic smile. "I just uh…I used that. The other day. I was doing some work on my truck and I used that carving fork because I didn't have the tool I needed and I don't think I cleaned it well enough." All eyes in the room focused on the carving fork in his hand, which was practically sparkling with cleanliness. Just the sight of it made him nauseous. "Actually, you know what? I should have… I'm just gonna throw it away." Before anyone could protest, he shoved it into the garbage can, making sure to lodge it deep so that it couldn't be easily retrieved. "I'll get us a new one."

"Jax!" Tara was confused. And annoyed. And a bit concerned about her husband's mental health.

"Let's just….here. Mom, you take care of the watermelon," Jax said. He took the knife from Tara and handed it to Gemma, putting himself between his wife and his mother as he did so. "Lyla, take the burgers out to Ope, he can start the grill. Tara, I need to speak to you for a minute." He put his hand on the small of his wife's back and steered her down the hall and into their bedroom.

"Jax, what are you…" Tara began as Jax closed and locked the door behind him. His lips were on hers before she could finish her question.

"Ssshhh," he breathed, moving his lips to her neck as he slid his fingers under her bra strap and pulled it off her shoulder.

"Jax, we can't-"

"Tara," he interrupted her. "I. Need. My. Wife. Everyone's busy, Trinity's watching the boys. Now's the perfect time, before anyone else gets here." He slid her other bra strap down and kissed her shoulder, unhooking the back of her bra as he did so and letting it fall to the floor. As his lips traveled from Tara's shoulder to her breast, his tongue caressing her nipple and his free hand unbuttoning her jeans, Tara gave in to the temptation that she was constantly fighting. It was difficult being married to such an incredibly sexy man sometimes.

"Okay," she breathed, reaching her hands down to unbuckle his belt. Jax pulled Tara's shirt off over her head as her jeans fell to the floor. She kissed him, her tongue working against his as she slid her hand down his pants, grabbing onto the massive bulge that she longed to have inside her. She ran her tongue from Jax's lips to his neck, to his chest, down his muscular abs, until he was in her mouth. She sucked and licked as her husband moved against her, his hands tangled in her hair. She dug her nails into his perfectly sculpted ass, moving her head faster and faster as she took him deeper into her throat.

Jax pulled her back up by the hair, his lips on hers as he slid two fingers inside her, so turned on by how wet she was, he could hardly stand it. Tara moaned in delight, backing up toward the bed.

"Take me," she whispered. Jax smiled, biting his lip as he shook his head.

"Uh uh," he said. "Not here." In one smooth movement, he lifted his wife into the air. She wrapped her legs around him as he walked to the other side of the room, kissing her the entire time. He set her down on top of the dresser, facing him. He watched their reflection in the mirror as he entered her, her back arching involuntarily. She wrapped her legs around him again, throwing her head backward as he kissed and licked her breasts.

"I love you Tara," he growled hungrily. She answered by moving harder against him, her hands around his neck. He backed away from the dresser, carrying her with him. They fell backwards onto the bed, Tara on top of Jax. He grabbed onto her hips as she moved back and forth slowly, loving how good he felt inside her. Jax closed his eyes. Tara was so warm, so wet, so alive. She was a part of him- a part he couldn't live without. He had never been so sure. The more she writhed on top of him, the further away that image of her lying dead on the kitchen floor became.

"Oh God," she sighed, her back going rigid as she climaxed, her pleasure uncontainable. Before she could catch her breath, Jax flipped her onto her back. He thrust himself inside her, hard and fast, his eyes fixated on hers.

"Don't ever leave me Tara," he insisted.

"Never," she promised, pulling her husband's face to hers, kissing him as he exploded inside of her. When he was finished, he collapsed on top of her, sweaty and breathless. She gently ran her hands up and down the very defined plains of his back.

"I love you," Jax said again, kissing his wife sweetly on the forehead.

"I love you too," Tara answered. She knew they needed to get up and get dressed and get back to their guests, but she wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with Jax for the rest of the day- touching, kissing, gazing into each others' eyes. It was perfect.

But as all good things must come to an end, Jax and Tara's perfect moment was shattered by what could have easily been mistaken for an earthquake . The walls shook and the ground rumbled as the familiar roar of a motorcycle gang rolling into town assaulted the peaceful silence of country living. Jax flashed Tara a wicked grin.

"They're here," he announced. Tara rolled her eyes. Indeed they were.

Jax threw his clothes back on and sneaked out of the bedroom after stealing one final kiss from Tara as she began the process of getting redressed and fixing her hair and makeup. Mid-day quickies were always much easier for Jax to recover from than they were for her. That was probably why they didn't happen very often anymore.

Abel met Jax in the hallway, every bit as excited about the arrival of the very loud party guests as his father was.

"I think they're here, Dad!" he exclaimed.

"I think you're right, buddy," Jax laughed. Trinity was standing at the end of the hall, holding Thomas. She looked apprehensive about the invasion of the motorcycle club. "You good?" Jax asked. She nodded. "Can you do me a favor and take the boys out back to play?"

"Sure," Trinity agreed. "Abel, come on," she said, reaching for her eldest nephew's hand.

"But Daddy, I wanna see the guuuuys," Abel protested.

"And you will. Daddy will bring them to the party in just a little bit. We just have to handle some grown up business first. Now you go be a good host and take Aunt Trinity outside to play, okay?" Abel nodded. He was such a good boy. Jax ruffled his son's sandy blonde hair and headed out the front door, just as Opie was rounding the side of the house. Side by side, they walked toward the gang of leather-clad bikers parking their motorcycles in Jax's front yard.

"Shit," Opie seethed as he lit a cigarette and took a quick, nervous puff. Jax followed his gaze.

"Shit," he agreed. Jax's step-father was helping a half-naked crow eater off his bike, a shit-eating grin on his face. With the blonde-haired tramp on his arm, he sauntered toward Jax and Opie, half a dozen of his crew and a random assortment of women behind him. Jax and Opie were vastly outnumbered, but they stood tall just the same. This was their turf, their family- they couldn't allow Clay to disrupt the peace they'd worked so hard to obtain.

"Theeeere they are," Clay crooned, his voice dripping with insincerity. "The golden boy and his lackey." Jax felt Opie tense beside him. He placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"We need to talk," Jax said, stepping into Clay's path. Clay didn't stop until he was inches from Jax's face. Slowly, he removed his sunglasses. Jax fought the urge to backhand the self-righteous smirk Clay was wearing from his weathered face.

"Is that so?" Clay asked. Jax kept his eyes fixed on his step-father's, but was very aware of the presence of his club behind him. Jax couldn't imagine that any of them would start anything at a kid's birthday party, but if things got physical between him and Clay, he knew whose side they would take. Jax was a traitor, after all.

"I just wanna make sure everybody's cool," Jax said. "This day is about Abel."

"Of course," Clay sneered, seemingly annoyed that such a thing even needed to be stated. "I sure as hell didn't come all this way to see your ugly mug."

"Gemma and Unser are here," Jax added, ignoring Clay's dig. For just a moment, there was a flicker of emotion in the old man's cold, dead eyes. He quickly willed it away, replacing it with a wicked smirk.

"I had no doubt," Clay said, wrapping his arm tightly around the piece of trash by his side, as if to imply that he had no use for Gemma, that he'd traded up. Jax knew better.

"And you're cool with that?" Jax pressed. Clay laid a firm hand on Jax's shoulder. Normally such a gesture would be comforting, but Jax perceived it as a threat.

"Son. Everyone's cool," Clay promised. While Jax normally didn't trust a word out of the man's mouth, he believed him for some reason. It seemed as though Clay was content to rub in everyone's faces how much better he was doing without Jax and Gemma in his life, which Jax hoped meant that he would refrain from causing any real trouble. Satisfied, he shrugged Clay's hand from his shoulder and stepped aside.

"The boys are out back," he said. Clay brushed past him without as much as another glance. His whore smiled at Jax, then turned her attention to Opie.

"Hey, Opie," she said sweetly.

"Ima," he nodded, without meeting her gaze.

"Is Lyla here?"

"Yup," Opie answered, visibly uncomfortable. He loathed his wife's former porn co-star. She'd tried for years to fuck her way into the club by getting into Jax's pants. Aside from one lapse in judgment early in Jax's relationship with Tara, she'd been unsuccessful. So the moment the head old lady position opened up, Ima threw herself into it pussy first.

"Oooh, good," she baited him. "I've missed her." Opie chuckled, his fists balled. Clay pulled Ima away, toward the house.

"Chill, bro," Jax whispered. "Don't let that skank get to you just because she's had more sex with your wife than you have." Opie jabbed Jax sharply in the ribs, his tension easing. Jax laughed, rubbing his side.

Tig gave Jax and Opie a quick nod before following behind Clay, a ridiculously young crow eater on his arm. Out of everyone, Tig had taken their separation from the club the hardest, and hadn't quite forgiven either of them yet. Bobby, like Piney, never held their betrayal against them. He wrapped them both in tight embraces, reeking of marijuana and booze. So much had changed in the past few years. It was a breath of fresh air that Bobby was still exactly the same.

Chibs greeted his former brothers warmly, reintroducing them to his daughter. Kerianne was just as shy as she'd been in Belfast. Her hair was shorter and her face was thinner than Jax remembered, but she still seemed like a fish out of water among the club. Even so, she smiled when Jax told her where she could find Trinity.

Juice and Happy exchanged quick pleasantries with Jax and Opie, then followed the others toward the house. With the awkward hellos over, Opie let out a sigh of relief.

"Not too painful," he said. He lit another cigarette, then offered one to Jax. Jax was trying to quit, but he'd definitely earned himself a smoke. He took it, turning his back to the house in hopes that Tara wouldn't see him. He just needed one moment of peace before throwing himself into the madness that was Abel's birthday party.

Just as Jax was taking the final drag from his cigarette, another car pulled into the driveway. He recognized the baby blue Impala lowrider instantly.

"Aw hell," he grumbled, wishing, just for a moment, that his family was at least some degree of normal. His ex-wife jumped out of the passenger seat, her arms full of presents.

"Where's my baby?" Wendy demanded, without even a hello. Not bothering to wait for an answer, she rushed past Jax and Opie into the house, a whirlwind of curly hair and gaudy jewelry. Wendy would never be Jax's favorite person, but she was Abel's birth mother. She'd been sober nearly five years, so there was really no valid reason for Jax to keep her away. At least, that was what Tara always said.

Her boyfriend took his time getting out of the car. Jax studied him as he made his way toward the house. He was older than Wendy, and was the owner of the hair salon she'd worked at before they started dating. The tattoos on his neck and arms revealed that he'd once been affiliated with one of the Mexican gangs in Cali. You'd never know it, though. He was very kind and even-keeled, always smiling- the complete opposite of Wendy. Jax wasn't sure what he saw in her. But it wasn't for him to judge. He liked his ex-wife's new boyfriend, as did Abel, and that was good enough for him.

"Ay, 'mano," Nero Padilla called out, adjusting the rings on both of his hands as he walked.

"Nero," Jax and Opie responded in unison.

"You didn't tell me there was a dress code," he teased, motioning to the black-leathered mob in the back yard.

"Sorry, man," Jax laughed. "I must've missed that memo myself." Nero patted him on the back.

"We ready to party?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jax answered. "I guess we are."