Chapter 89

Alex and Aurora: Age 6+

Gabriel

I watched Alex stomp his feet, frustrated by something I couldn't pinpoint.

"I don't like this," he muttered, eyeing the Lego structure he'd been building for days. He was always impatient, and Lego wasn't his favorite toy, but Sophia and I had gotten it hoping to instill some calm.

He wasn't thrilled with the impromptu gift, but he'd been building it anyway to avoid upsetting his mother.

I blinked, looking at the hundred-piece car set.

"I think it's alright," I commented from behind. "Just the door seems a little off. You might want to remove that black piece and replace it with the red one."

Alex examined both pieces thoughtfully before picking up the toy and throwing it down with such force that all the pieces scattered. Then he grinned.

I shook my head, sighing.

Zach, who'd been watching with amusement, laughed, throwing his head back.

He only stopped when I glared at him. Sophia and I had established a rule: don't laugh when he acts out, lest it encourage him.

"Why did you do that, Alex?" I asked.

"You said it was alright."

"Yeah. 'Alright' is good."

"But," his eyebrows furrowed, "Miss Mary taught us in class that 'alright' is average."

"Average is good," I added.

"No," he declared. "I don't like average. I want to be the best."

I shook my head, and my best friend grinned. "Your son," Zach's wide smile revealed all his teeth, "no paternity test needed."

I glared at him.

"What?" He shrugged. "A wannabe perfectionist who'll stop at nothing? That's a mini-you."

"I'm not a wannabe perfectionist," I rolled my eyes. "I am a natural perfectionist. Don't be jealous."

He blew air out of his mouth.

"Hey, Alex," Zach called.

My son looked up, abandoning the scattered Lego pieces he was starting to reassemble. "What?"

For some reason, Alex had never liked Zach, and probably never would.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A fireman."

"That's new," Zach commented, furrowing his brows. "Why?"

"So I can light you on fire," Alex grinned.

The amused smile that spread across my lips was so instantaneous that I couldn't even discipline him. "My son, huh?" I smirked.

Zach frowned. "Firemen put out fires. They don't cause them."

"But Dad said I can be whatever I want to be!" He stomped his foot. "So I'll be the kind of fireman who lights you on fire."

Zach's gaze flickered to me. "Children usually love me. Why is your son the exception?"

I shrugged. "Maybe he's the only sane kid around."

"Dad," Alex called again, "can I light Miss Mary on fire if she tells me again I shouldn't play after break time?"

"Absolutely not," I said firmly. Flashbacks of Damien starting a fire at school when he wanted a half-day clouded my mind. "If you light people on fire, they'll get hurt badly. They'll die. Do you want to kill people, Alex?"

My son shook his head.

"If I light Uncle Zach on fire, he'll die?"

I nodded.

"Then I won't do it."

"Good," I smiled. "Now, apologize to him."

"Sorry, Zach," Alex batted his eyelashes. "But even you can't call Skye my cousin. She's not my sister, and she gets very upset when you say that."

"And you don't mind if I call Skye your sister?"

"Don't care," Alex shrugged, his attention returning to the disassembled Lego car. "Just don't upset her."

"I don't like your son," Zach mused. "He wants to protect my daughter from me?"

I smirked. "You know him. He protects everyone he loves."

"He'd better keep his love to himself."

"He's six and she's eight. I think they'll be okay," I laughed, and Zach frowned—an equation I loved.

My two-and-a-half-year-old son flung himself into my arms when I joined my wife and them in the park, and Alex ran to Aurora and Skye, who were at the swings.

I winced as I watched him glare at an older child until he left the third swing, and how Alex grinned when he got on it.

Aurora gave her hand to her brother.

"Oh, am I a terrible mother for allowing that?" Freckles whispered to Anna, who just laughed.

"Dada," Ronan commanded my attention in his adorable little voice. "Mama said no swing! Only for big babies."

The only one of my kids who called me Dada. The other two had upgraded to "Dad" a year after Ronan was born, and I hated how quickly they were growing up.

"Yes, champ," I said, ruffling his brown hair. "These are the big kid swings. How about I hold you for a bit and let you swing? Do you want to try it then?"

Freckles couldn't do that. She'd done it once when the twins were little but somehow got her hair stuck in the ropes and swore never again.

"Yes, Dada," he bobbed his head, and I carried him to the center swing Skye had just vacated after seeing her father and placed him there.

"Wow, Ro! You're a big kid now," my daughter grinned, offering him her hand.

"You both can't swing together, princess. He can't swing at your speed yet, and you'll both end up falling," I explained, gently pushing Ronan's swing, careful not to let him fall.

Aurora pouted but withdrew her hand.

"Alex! See!" Ronan put his feet in the air, and my elder son took one hand off the swing handles to give him a thumbs-up.

"Careful, Alex," I said, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes at my little daredevil.

I don't know how long the three of them were on the swings, but eventually, Zach, Anna, and Skye left, my Freckles snapping pictures of the three children, and Ronan making me leave because he'd now upgraded to the big-kid swing and didn't need me for safety reasons.

"Can we make one more?" I asked my wife, gently kissing her shoulder. She tore her gaze away from the children to look at me.

"Are you serious?" She batted her eyelashes, her freckles visible even in the setting sun. "I thought we were done at three."

"Yeah, but… they're growing up."

She giggled. "Of course they'll grow up."

"But…" I trailed off, searching for the words. "They're not little anymore."

"Don't they still need your stories to fall asleep?" she reminded me softly. "And there are so many milestones left. Aurora and Alex will start first grade. They're both yet to ride their bikes without training wheels. And Ronan just started school a few months ago. So many milestones, Gabriel."

"I want another."

"We're already outnumbered," she whispered, her smile reaching her eyes.

"Think about it?"

"I will," she promised, turning to call the kids. "Come on! It's supper time. We'll come back to the park tomorrow. Off now."

Ronan was the first to get off, the obedient boy he is, running to his mother and climbing into her arms. Little traitor.

Alex was second, insisting on a piggyback ride, and I hoisted him onto my shoulders. Their piggyback rides were the reason I worked out these days—to stay strong enough as they grew.

Chapter 89

Aurora walked between me and Freckles, one hand in each of ours.

As we walked home from the park, the only thing I could wonder was how I'd gotten so lucky.