We've finally reached the end. I hope you've enjoyed watching Thomas grow up into the man he is. Thank you for everything, I couldn't have done it without you all.
TPOV
"If you two don't pack it in I'll turn this car around and you can go home to bed." I warn my sons from the driver's seat. I glance in the rear-view mirror and find two symmetrical smirking faces, the dark hair and bright blue eyes prominent on both boys. It's hard to believe they're not twins, but in fact two years apart. I shoot a glance over at my oldest in the side seat, she's listening to her music and staring out of the window. My daughter is a daydreamer.
"I need to wee," Toby, my five year old, calls from the back. I mentally curse and eye him in the mirror, holding his crotch. Oh brilliant.
"Toby, I asked you if you needed to wee before we left and you said no. You'll have to wait." Emily chastises, looking out of the mirror and noting we're still 8 miles away from my parents' house.
"Mom! Let him go! He'll wee himself and I'm next to him!" My 9 year old daughter is apparently out of her daydream now, and shooting us a rather dirty look.
"No, he needs to learn his lesson." I reinforce, sharing a look with Emily.
"Daddy, I'm going to wee!" He squeals from the back, and my other children yell in protest. I miss how simple car journeys were before children, or at least when they slept through most of it.
"Dad!" Miley and Lewis yell, trying to pull as far away from their little brother as they could in the back of our Audi Q7. I swear under my breath and sharply pull the car over into a layby. I turn to look at my older children with a glare, they smirk back at me, and I know who they got that from.
"Daddy!" Toby shouts again, and I spring into action. Quickly jumping out of my seat, I fling his door open, un-belt him from his car seat and practically run with him in my arms to the edge of the woods, at the side of the road.
I place him on the floor and stand back waiting. When several moments pass, I sigh and walk back over to him.
"Toby, I thought you need a wee?" I ask, watching my small son stare mesmerised into the dark woods. It's a dark evening in November, and also fucking freezing. I glance back at the car, and think about my sports jacket in the boot. Suddenly, I regret wearing only a shirt and jeans.
"Toby," I repeat, and this time he looks up at me. His little face a picture of innocence. I notice he's only wearing jeans and a thin, cotton jumper. He must be freezing, so why isn't he hurrying up!
"Daddy, do you think there are bears in the woods?" He asks randomly, and I groan. Why does he have to be so inquisitive at the worst possible times?
I crouch down next to him, and wrap an arm around his cold body. "There are absolutely no bears around here, Toby. Now, please hurry up and wee. We're already late for Grandma and Grandad, and you know how upset they get when we're late. You don't want to upset them, do you?" It was a low blow, but I don't regret it when he quickly nods and pulls down his tight jeans.
When we're back on track, just fifteen minutes later, I'm relieved when I receive a text from my sister telling me they're also running late because the girls were arguing. My nieces might have been identical twins but they definitely didn't have identical minds.
"Are we going to tell your family tonight? I'm scared if we don't they'll find out from my parents at some benefit or something," Emily asks, looking over at me from the passenger seat and rubbing her stomach. I grin down at the little baby inside my wife's belly, who in seven months I'll be able to hold in my arms.
"Yeah, we'll tell them over drinks after dinner." I answer and she nods.
When we finally make it to my parents, half an hour later than expected, the kids have calmed down a bit and everything is feeling good. I like to think I'm extremely lucky none of my kids have turned out to be a little shit like I was growing up. Then again, I've got one to come. I'm praying for a sweet little girl, and not a devil little boy. Anyway, I know Miley would like a little sister more than a third brother.
We exit the car and enter my parent's house, being greeted by an army of hugs and kisses before we even get to take out coats off.
CPOV
"I think I can hear your cousins," I tell my Grandchildren; Phoebe's four year old daughters, Isabella and Bryony, then Theo's son and daughter; 7 year old, Nathanial and 6 year old, Lucy.
They all look up at me on a grin and then sprint off into the direction of the yelling, most likely coming from Toby.
I follow after them and smile when I find Ana already chatting away to Emily. Theo, Phoebe and Thomas are talking quietly in the corner, occasionally laughing to themselves.
"Grandad," I look down when I hear my name being called, and smile at Miley, who is growing up so quickly. She's so beautiful, taking after Thomas in hair but Emily's eyes. Whereas the boys are the opposite.
"Hey sweetheart, how have you been?" I ask pulling her into my side, she hugs me tightly and begins to babble on about her new school project. I listen attentively, nodding and asking questions at the right times, encouraging her to continue.
We're interrupted by a loud clang, which sounded a lot like one of our flower vases falling to the floor.
"Boys! Stop running around in the house!" Thomas yells and I smile to myself, he really is an amazing Father, just like his Brother.
After a laughter filled meal, consisting of Lewis and Toby's new rap, and then the girls showing us their newest dance routine, I'm feeling rather worn out and apparently so is everyone else. I glance at the clock and realise it's only 8.30pm, I'm getting old. At least Ana still loves me.
We send the kids into the media room, minus Toby who is sleeping in Thomas' arms, and put a movie on for them to watch and hopefully fall asleep to. Then, we make our way into the living room to relax and drink wine.
Theo and his wife, Jessica, tell us about the holiday they're taking at the end of the year to Greece. Phoebe and her partner, Josh, tell us about how they want to try for a little boy. Just when I don't think my brain can deal with anymore happiness, my son informs us all they're having another baby. Another Grandchild for us to spoil.
"Have you two still not learnt how to use a condom?" Theo asks jokingly, after he's pulled Thomas into a celebratory hug.
Thomas grins and shakes his head. "Number four is definitely going to be our last, right Em?" He asks, looking for confirmation.
Emily nods her head in agreement. "I don't think I can cope with anymore. Three of them drive us around the wall. How are we going to cope with four? They're going to outnumber us by two!"
We all laugh and soothe their worries. I know for a fact they're both going to be just fine.
"I'm going to get another beer, anyone else want anything?" Thomas asks, and everyone throws an order at him.
"I'll help you," I offer and we walk into the kitchen to retrieve three glasses of wine for Phoebe, Jessica and Ana. Then, three cokes for our designated drivers.
As he's pouring the wine into the glasses, I notice Thomas has a new tattoo on his wrist. It has been his thing that he gets all his children's initials tattooed on his wrist. I smile when I read 'T.E.G'.
"Toby Ezra Grey," I muse, and he looks down at it his wrist on a soft smile.
Thomas shrugs his shoulders. "It was about time I got this one, after all I'll have a new one to get done soon."
The thought warms my heart. "I can't wait to meet them, Thomas. Trust me when I say, you and Emily are brilliant parents."
My son smiles at this and hugs me, I flinch in surprise but quickly relax and hug him tighter.
7 years later.
TPOV
"Asher James Grey!" Emily screams across the back yard, "How many times do I have to tell you not to climb up that fence?! Get down right now!"
When Asher was born nearly 7 years ago with the cheeky grin plastered on his face and the mischievous bleu orbs drilling into me, I knew then he would be the one to give me trouble, and God was I right. I wave a hand over to my wife, signalling I'd handle it and walk out into the garden, watching my six year old jump down from our back fence, which from when he was about 5 he's had an obsession with climbing.
"Asher! You son of a bitch!" Lewis shouts at his little brother as he deliberately trips the running boy up. I sigh to myself and storm over, putting my meanest look on my face. One that I hopes lives up to my Fathers.
"Lewis, watch your language or I'll confiscate your phone again, and do not trip your brother up." I warn through narrowed eyes. Jesus I never expected to find myself in this position, I almost cringe whenever I hear myself sound like this. Like my Dad did when I was a kid.
My teenager growls and rolls his eyes, he's going through his typical teenage boy phase. A phase Emily and I are not enjoying, it's almost as bad as Miley's teenage girl phase.
"He was being annoying as usual! Tell him to leave me alone or I will hurt him!" Lewis snaps, standing up. Even at the young age of fourteen he's catching up to me in height, I think he got the gene that skipped me from my Dad.
I glare at him, our equally blue eyes drilling into each other. I knew Lewis would never in a million years hurt Asher, both him and Toby are fiercely protective over their little brother, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let him get away with saying stuff like that. "Lewis, your brother is a lot smaller than you and it's your job to look out for him, not hurt him. I don't want to hear you talking like that again."
My son huffs and storms off without a word. I rake a hand through my hair. Even as a young parent I find it hard to find a balance between good and bad cop with my kids. I love them, and want them to trust me, but I can't have them disobeying me if it's going to hurt them or anyone else.
"Lewis," I call and he turns back to look at me with an exasperated look, "How about we boys go and shoot some hoops later?"
My worries are reduced when he nods on a small smile. My oldest son was an excellent basketball player. Toby wasn't too bad either, but he's more into academics. As for Asher, I'm not sure. He's an incredibly smart kid but he's got the attention span of a fish and absolutely no regard for his own safety.
Asher stops running around when he hears me mention basketball and is suddenly on his best behaviour with his cheekiest grin on. "Can I play, Dad?"
I smirk down at him and ruffle his short, thick, dark curls. He's a handsome little thing. "That depends. Are you going to stop being naughty and promise to be on your best behaviour for the rest of the day?"
He grins and nods. "I promise."
This pleases me and I lean down to pick him up, he squeals as I heave him up into my arms, and as I carry him inside he babbles on about the new episode of Adventure land. A programme that my other children despise.
We walk into the kitchen to be greeted by the site of Emily cooking up dinner. Despite the insistence from my Dad to this day I'm proud to say we've never once had a maid, sure we've had some help with the kids but never a maid to do the cooking and cleaning.
I place my son down on the seat next to my sixteen year old daughter, who is texting on her phone and walk over to assist my wife.
"Anything I can do to help?" I ask, moving behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. She leans back into my hold and rubs my cheek affectionately.
"Just keep the kids under control for the next ten minutes until the food is ready. I'm glad you're home today, Tommy." She tells me, leaning up and kissing me. I smile in agreement. Normally, on a Saturday night I would be on call at the hospital but I managed to get myself a rare day off.
"Do you two really have to do that here? If I'm not old enough to watch an R rated movie I'm not old enough to watch this, not to mention little Asher." Miley complains, a look of disgust covering her beautiful face.
I pull back and cock an eyebrow at her. "Sorry Miles, I forgot your Mom and I aren't allowed to love each other in front of you." My sarcastic reply only earns a scoff and a roll of the eyes off her.
"You and Chase were doing the same thing in your room the other day," 12 year old, Toby, quips as he walks in taking a seat next to Asher.
This grabs my attention and I shoot a look over at my daughter, who is currently giving my son the death look. "What is he talking about? I don't recall you ever asking my permission to have Chase in your room, Miley." I ask accusingly, my daughter's seventeen year old boyfriend, Chase, may be my least favourite person in the world.
Miley shrugs and lowers her gaze to the counter top. "Mom said it was okay," She mumbles, and I can practically feel my jaw hit the floor. I shoot accusing eyes at my wife who rolls her eyes.
She continues to fry the vegetables in the pan. "Relax, Tommy, I made sure she kept the door open the whole time. Toby only saw them because he walked into Miley's room."
I scoff in disbelief. Emily always has been much more relaxed when it comes to Miley and boys. I'm not sure whether it's because she's a young parent or just because she's also a girl. "Where was I when this happened?"
"You were at work, like always," Asher responds, and even though it's a completely innocent statement it makes me feel guilty. Do I spend too much time at the hospital and not enough time with my kids?
I know Emily can feel me tense at the comment, and she quickly changes the subject. "You three go and wash up for dinner, tell Lewis to do the same." She calls after them as they jump of their stools in a race to one of our five bathrooms.
"Tommy, you know he didn't mean it like that. The kids love you so much, you're a brilliant dad," Emily soothes me and I appreciate it as I feel all of my old insecurities suddenly coming back but for completely different reasons. Now instead of being scared my parents don't love me I'm scared my kids don't.
CPOV
Basketball with my son and grandsons is one of my favourite ways to spend my evenings. I know Thomas only invites me along with them because he thinks I feel left out of his life, which I don't, I know he's got his own family now but I love being a part of it. It's rare we get to do it as well, because normally my son is working weekend evenings.
"Come on, Grandad!" Lewis teases, as he dribbles past me for about the tenth time and scores another point. He's an incredible athlete, taking after Thomas in that aspect.
I stand back slightly and watch the three boys mess around with my son. The sight warms my heart. I've never been prouder of Thomas than I am now. He's raising amazing children. So are Theo and Phoebe, and when I look at all of them I know I've done something good with my life.
"You okay?" I'm brought out of my thoughts by my son's voice. He stands next to me at the side lines as we watch the boys play. I nod and he smiles.
"Lewis, Toby, be careful . Don't throw it too hard, Asher is a lot smaller than you." He cautions and I can't keep the smirk off my face. Never in a million years did I picture my troublemaker of a son having kids at 18, becoming a doctor and living the perfect life, but here he is.
"Ash, come back here. I'll get it," Lewis calls, chasing after his six year old brother, who has run after the ball into the wooded area. An area I know is full of poison ivy and holes.
"Asher! Stop!" Thomas yells, when the rebellious boy continues running after the ball despite the shouts from his older brother's.
We both curse under our breath as we watch Asher fall into the ivy. Lewis lifts him up on a sigh and carries the crying boy back over, mumbling the entire way about how he should listen more. He's a very good big brother.
Thomas takes him from Lewis and kisses his face softly. "It's alright buddy. What did we tell you? Stop. You know you're not allowed in there," He lectures, whilst stroking the little boy's hair, "Come on let's get you home to a warm bath."
I can't keep the smirk off my face though and Thomas looks at me strangely. "Why the hell are you smiling? My son just got stung by poison ivy," He splutters in disbelief.
I shake my head trying to remove the smirk, "It's not that. I'll come back with you to help with him and see Emily and Miley. I was just thinking how happy it makes me that you have a son that doesn't listen to a word you say. Now maybe you'll appreciate how hard it was to raise you." I answer truthfully, and he rolls his eyes at me before leading the way back to the car.
As I watch my fully grown sun walk back to his car with Asher in his arms, and Lewis and Toby trailing behind, I feel immensely proud. How in the hell did this incredible, intelligent, handsome, person come out of me? I put it down to Ana, and the love we gave him constantly growing up even when he let us down. I used to think about how it's very hard to grow up in a perfect family when you're not perfect. But, then I realised no family is perfect, we all have our own problems but in the end it's all worth it.
"Dad! Come on!" Thomas yells from the driver seat of his car, looking at me with an expectant look over the rolled down window.
"I'm coming," I holler, walking over to the car with the sun setting behind me and the realisation my family might be the exception to the nobody's perfect rule.