Chapter Text
August 23rd, 1978
Atmore, Alabama
They hadn’t chosen his name.
Not officially, at least.
They never came to an agreement about it.
She wanted something that sounded too soft. Too sweet. There was nothing standout about it. It wasn’t the right name. Not for his boy. If he was stuck with this one shot at doing right by his father, by his family tree as a whole, he was going to start the boy’s life off right by giving him a strong name. Something sturdy. Masculine. Something that was going to get the boy noticed by his fellow man.
He had to raise this one right if he was going to be the shining light in his father’s eyes.
His brother’s wife had a baby announcement not long ago, which meant he had a year ahead of his brother to train his new son and schmooze his way into his father’s given pride and validation.
On August 23rd at 9:05am, the Nashton family had a new baby boy to celebrate.
On August 23rd at 6:43pm, Olivia Eleanor Nashton died of postpartum hemorrhaging that was assisted by preeclampsia, something the doctors couldn’t gain an upper hand on when her complaints of symptoms went unheeded by her husband. She stayed quiet while her blood pressure was monitored and partially treated by hospital staff.
On August 24th at 1:12am Isaac Braxton Nashton had decided what to do about the new baby Nashton’s identity. Olivia wouldn’t be around to know, God rest her soul. He would’ve bent to the middle name she wanted, if only to satisfy her enough to rest her whining about it, but now that she was no longer with them…
Edward Atticus Nashton met his father again through glass while the hospital was busy monitoring him, running tests, taking measurements, and making sure the child was getting his necessary shots.
He was a decently sized baby, a big one at 9 pounds, 2 ounces. That showed promise to Isaac who wished to have a strapping lad to show the ropes to, to show off like a prized pony, to gain his father’s respect with. A big baby should mean a big child, and that should mean a well grown man. Most of the men in their family were in the five foot eight to five foot ten range. There were the few though, like his own father, that snuck by that to break into the low six foot category in their primes.
And he wanted Edward to be one of those men.
Without a mother’s hand in the picture he should be able to raise a boy without too much maternal influence. Other than his own mother, but he could do what he could to reduce whatever spoiling and soft natures she might pass to him. This boy was going to spend all and every day with him and his father, Kenneth. They were going to teach him the ways.
Hunting, fishing, firearms, mechanical repair, animal rearing, farm work, hard physical labor. There was so much Isaac had an opportunity for and he wasn’t going to waste the chance. Nor was he going to taint his potential only child, let alone potential only boy, to the more delicate nature of women and girls.
Edward would grow up well taught in ways that men should be taught. He would get traditional lessons and learn them all himself by hand. This was a prime opportunity. One day Edward would find himself a wife, a pretty little thing that didn’t talk too much, who knew how to take care of him and would provide him with his own slew of children. A couple girls would be fine, but certainly a few of his own boys would give him a greater sense of fatherly pride. Prepping girls for their adult lives wouldn’t be anything difficult. Girls would be easy to raise, they were naturally easier to handle. Boys though… Boys were rough and tumble, hard to manage, got up to hijinks, were dangers to themselves and their friends at times, they were much more of a challenge.
This was it.
This was his chance to win back some of his father’s approval. Kenneth Atticus Nashton was going to tell him that he was proud of him.
One way or another… Edward was going to learn how to be a man’s man. No matter the hardships, punishments, or uphill battles to get there.
The boy would thank him for it one day.