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Glad we knocked that stuff off. We act on every impulse now. It’s much easier when you live in the same house and don’t have to hide everything. It’s also easier when you have a split concept house and don’t have to bite the pillow so little ears don’t wake up.
Now, Jax is turning seven. Seven! And we are throwing a birthday party with several of his friends from school and people from the office at Out and About.
“Mom, for real. We don’t have enough water balloons.” Jax stops in front of me, a look of true panic on his flushed face.
“You have, like, fifty. How is that not enough?” I smile as I put the finishing touches on the cake. Another thing we had to compromise on. Ethan wanted to buy one from a bakery. Some three-tiered monstrosity that would set us back about two hundred dollars. I wanted to make him a cake, like I always have. The compromise? Water balloons. So. Many. Water balloons.
“Did I hear someone say they need more ammo?”
Speak of the devil. Ethan walks in the back door holding, I kid you not, at least two hundred more.
“You’re the best, dad!” Jax jumps up and down. Meanwhile, two more little boys appear out of the woodwork and they all confiscate the new balloons.
“Have at it,” he chuckles, putting his hands on his hips as they rush back out the door, leaving a river of pool water across the floor.
I shake my head too. At him. “You’re insane.”
“It’s the kid’s birthday! A little spoiling is allowed on a birthday.”
I sigh and go back to my cake frosting. “You spoil us in every way,” I shake my head.
Ethan walks over and puts his arms around me from behind. “And is that such a bad thing? Loving my family? I have years to make up for. Mistakes to make up for.”
“What mistakes?” I ask, looking back at him.
“Your dad’s mistakes.”
Guilt swells over my heart and slump against him. “You don’t have to make up for the pain he caused in our lives. He hurt you too.”
Ethan spins me around to face him. “I know. But I can still create enough good that all that pain washes away.”
He’s grinning at me, his jawline sharp, his eyes intense but soft. And I smile back. Our lips are about to touch when Jax comes flying back in the kitchen.
“Is it cake time! I want to do cake!”
We both laugh and Ethan steals the smallest kiss before we get back to work. There’s presents to be unwrapped, burgers and dogs to be flipped and a party to be had.
And party we do. Everyone hangs around clear into the night. The pergola is strung with lights and the mini bar is in full swing (because, you know, compromise) and we hang out with our friends and the other parents while the boys play glow stick tag.
“This is perfect,” I sigh, buzzy from my second mai tai. As I lean into Ethan, I can feel his gaze on me. I can feel a lot of people’s gazes on me.
Something is up.
I can feel it.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Ethan feigns innocence and I just give him a look.
He laughs. “Alright you caught me. All these people aren’t just here for a birthday party. Jax?” He calls out and Jaxon drops what he’s doing, perks up and runs over.
“Is it time?!”
Ethan nods down at him. “Yes, my good man. It is time.”
“Time for what? What’s going on? Ethan. What did you do?”
But Ethan doesn’t say anything. He just runs inside. Then a moment later, he comes back out. Stopping next to us. Someone turns the music down and everyone is watching us, drinks in hand and smiles on their faces.