My Mad Fat Stories

Only One Call Away - Part 3

(3 years and a biy years later...)

"Logan you little bastard! Where's my beer?" With his head still stuffed in the refrigerator, Finn looked top to bottom for the last bottle of fosters he knew was in there.

"You mean the beer that Logan is currently chugging in front of the barbecue?" Rae chucked, coming closer to her husband. She didn't mind the view she currently had, even after all these years he still had a tight ass.

"Prick! He knew I was saving that one for when I started cooking."

"Well in his defence he did ask you if he could drink it, and you did say yes."

Finn was confused. Never would he give away his last beer on a scorching hot summers, Rae was obviously hearing things.

"Rae do you really think I'm that stupid, never would I ever give away my last bloody Beer" he scoffed continuing his search. His refrigerator had never been this full, he blamed his mother. She would always bring a dish of some sort everytime she visited.

"20 minutes ago you were hunting for your autographed copy of 'the cure's album wish' to show nate- which you forgot to show him..." Rae waved to the vinyl sitting on the bench.

"... And then Logan walked in and asked if he could have the last beer, to which you mumbled 'yeah whatever lad' when you were searching by album not band. You dick! I told you last week I changed the line up when Wyatt kept me up all night".

Ahh yes, how could he forget about his fresh-out-the-womb son Rae gave birth to 3 weeks ago. Easy- he couldn't. He was a loud baby, between crying and snoring it was never a silent night in the Nelson house hold.

Unlike his two daughters Sophie and Amelia, Wyatt was a mumma's boy. Finn swore that kid had seen Rae's tits more in the last 3 weeks then he had their entire relationship.

"Fuck!" Finn swore. "I'm going to have to ask dad to pick up more beers on the way. He said him and Julie were arriving around 4pm"

Finn pulled his phone out of his back pocket and sent a quick text to his dad. Hopefully his old man actually manages to read this one. Two left thumbs and age was against him.

At that precise moment a ruckus was made at the front entrance, before a blur of ginger hair flashed passed them and out the glass sliding door to outside.

"Oi! Oi! Uncle Chop here for duty! Where's princess Sophia?!"

"Fucking hell chop! Keep ya voice down dipshit Wyatt's asleep. If you wake him I swear to God you'll be whipping ya tit out to feed the greedy monster!" Rae hissed lowly; her eyes narrowed slightly in Chop's direction.

"Geez Rae don't bite my dick off. Sophie's birthday only comes around once a year women."

Rae rolled her eyes at Chops remark and walked over to his petite wife, and one of Rae's best friend Izzy. Who like true Izzy fashion was slapping her bird-brain of a husband on the arm.

"I'd help love, but my boobs carry nothing but powder these days" considering the last time Izzy was pregnant was a good 6 years ago, Rae took her word for it.

"Oi man! Did you bring any beers lad? Fucking Logan drank my last one" Finn desperately asked. He needed to quench his thirst, its not everyday his little girl turns 11.

"Who would I be if I didn't carry around at least a 6 pack of beer? I'm appalled you would think so lowly of me Finny" teased Chop.

"Give us a beer Chop. And stop trying to sound safisticated, doesn't suit you m'lad."

"Wanker" chop mumbled, then turned to his son. "Jacob give ya uncle a beer will ya. I need to give a certain girl the best damn present of her life".