Page 43 of As the Years Pass

Emmet chuckles. “I’m sure you did that when you were little and sick.”

“Yuck, I did not,” she says firmly.

“I bet Daddy did too,” Emmet whispers loudly behind his hand.

She grins then starts laughing. “Ew, Daddy.”

I smile as I pour juice into a sippy cup for Ian. I take a pillow and blanket from his bed and shift him around to get comfy on the floor, since it’s his favorite place to lay. I’ll find him asleep here in the mornings more than in his bed. I thought there was something wrong with the mattress, but Leslie said he does the same thing there.

“Okay, well, now that’s done, how are we looking in here?” I ask.

“Our pizzas are in the oven. We made one for you and for Ian, in case he wants to eat later.”

I smile at Judy. “Thanks, sweetheart. That was very nice of you.”

“It was Emmet’s idea.”

My gaze goes to him, but he keeps his attention on the counter he’s wiping up.

I’m pretty sure that it isn’t the alcohol that’s making my chest feel like this…

Chapter Seventeen

Emmet

“What is this?” Adam gasps when he pulls the pan of little pizzas from the oven.

Judy giggles. “It was his idea!” She points at me, throwing her head back and laughing.

I can’t help but laugh too.

“Where did you find this?” he asks.

“In the cabinet.” I shrug.

“I forgot that you like pineapple on your pizza,” he comments as he puts the pan on top of the stove.

We made a dozen, all sorts for everyone to try. I know Adam won’t try the pineapple one, but Judy said she would.

“I’m offended,” I joke.

He rolls his eyes. “You are not. Judy, can you get drinks for us, please?”

She skips over to the fridge and pulls out three juice boxes, then hops over to the table. I stifle a laugh. Adam has no idea what she’s done, and I’m sure he’s going to laugh when he sees. Or maybe this is normal for them, I have no idea.

He puts all the pizzas onto a serving plate and grabs paper plates, but I take them so he doesn’t drop the food.

“Thank you,” he says with a soft smile.

We bring everything to the table and sit.

That’s when he notices the drinks. He looks up at me.

“I’m sorry. She—” I raise a brow and he snaps his mouth shut. He sighs and says, “I hope you like…” He picks up the juice box to look at it. “Bloop berry.”

I chuckle. “I’ve never had a bloop berry before, but I’m excited to try it.” I stab the straw into the top and take a sip.

It’s not great. Way too much sugar, and I can’t even tell what type of fruit it’s supposed to be.