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I sip on my soda loudly.

“Andverygenerous,” she adds.

“I need to get laid,” I whisper, thinking out loud.

“Oh! Speaking of, you never told me how it went with the bartender.”

“Bartender?” Autumn asks.

Vic looks at her as she pats me on the shoulder.

“Pinkyover here had her tongue down her throat when I left for the night.”

I hide behind the can of soda.

“First of all, do not call me that ever again. It was painful, and I was dying to correct her. Second, I don’t do any tongue shoving in public.” I sip my drink. “We waited until we got into the Uber for that.”

They burst out laughing.

Our day goes on with more of that. There are a couple meltdowns amongst the children, either because someonedoesn’t want to share something, or because they’re hungry and upset they can’t eat the plastic cake. Eli tried. It went as well as one would think.

The men come inside, and I pray that the dogs have let out enough of their energy when they follow. I would feel so bad if they were at fault for knocking something over or chewing on something they shouldn’t.

Miles starts an early dinner for all of us, and while I wasn’t planning on staying to eat, I can’t say no to free food. I’m especially not going to turn down tacos, when the spread of toppings is being laid out and the entire house smells like seasoned meat. It’s heaven.

And Miles is a good cook.

“This is one of the last times we’ll all be together without an extra person,” Vic says. “There’s my baby shower, and then…” she trails off, but we get what she means.

It hits me like a truck that she’s right. In one month, she’ll have Angeline. In three, Autumn will have her baby boy. Our chosen families just keep getting bigger.

“I love all of you so much,” Autumn says, her voice full of emotion.

“I love you too, babe.”

We all take turns with hugs, and saying goodbye. The kids are impatient and tired, so it’s rushed, but it’s also really special.

Everything’s about to change.

The green Subaru isn’t in the parking lot when I get off work, which I think means that monster of a woman won’t be home tonight. I breathe out a sigh of relief, and hope I’m not getting my hopes up for nothing. It’s already ten, and the last time she was gone at this hour, I got to sleep through the night.

I carry Dahlia up the steps, even though it is a struggle the entire time. She’s getting too big for this. I try not to think toomuch about that, or I’m going to get even more emotional. I think there’s been enough of it tonight.

There’s a response on my door. Shocker.

I pull it off without reading it, and focus on unlocking the door. Dahlia is so tired she can barely keep her eyes open.

“More mail?” she asks. I don't know how she even noticed, but I nod.

“Nothing important,” I say. “Can you go brush your teeth, and I’ll be there in a minute?”

She nods and I set her on her feet, making sure she’s steady before letting go. She sluggishly heads towards the bathroom, and I quietly chuckle to myself about how much she reminds me of me.

I didn’t know you had a kid.

I flip the note over, confused. There’s nothing else, just the one sentence.

What does that mean?