Page 31 of Better Daddy

After T.J. is showered and in pajamas, Sully sits on the end of his bed. Though we found a little slice of normalcy today, I don’t think I can share this bedtime routine with him, so I duck out to brush my teeth, promising to come back and say good night after.

As I pad back to the bedroom, T.J. is speaking just loud enough to be heard in the hallway, so I stop and give them another minute alone. “They told us we couldn’t climbthe monkey bars,” he says. “No one said anything about the wall.”

I creep a little closer and peer into the room, finding them snuggled together in the bottom bunk. T.J. is beneath the covers, but Sully is on top of them, now dressed in a pair of black sweats and a white t-shirt. The sight melts my heart, and for a moment, all I want is to climb in with them.

“The teachers probably assumed that you knew not to climb walls,” Sully says, his tone patient.

“You always tell me not to assume. And they’re teachers. They know so, so much, so they should know not to assume.” T.J.’s thought process is always astounding. “I wish they didn’t assume, though, because I didn’t like it when I got to the top.”

Sully hums.

“But then the firefighter saved me. Now I want to be a firefighter.”

“Probably gotta work on that fear of heights, then,” my husband says, a hint of laughter in his tone.

“I can work on it on the monkey bars at recess tomorrow. Because firefighters have cool outfits. I don’t want to be a lawyer. You don’t have cool outfits.”

Sully lets out a huff, though there’s no heat behind it. “How do you know I’m not like Superman? Maybe my cool outfit is under my suit. Ever think of that?”

T.J. grasps the hem of Sully’s T-shirt and yanks.

Sully, who’s got to be the most ticklish person I know, squeals like a girl and tugs the cotton back into place while gently grasping T.J.’s arm to stop him.

When T.J. goes for him with his other hand, homing in on the spot that only he and I know about, I can’t hide my giggle. Both of my boys crane their necks to look at me, and T.J. brightens. “We’re having a sleepover, Mom. Come snuggle with us.”

I step into the room but stay near the door. “I don’t think I’ll fit, bud.” The mattress on the bottom bunk is a full, but Sully’s a big guy. I have no idea how he sleeps on the top bunk.

“I can give you two some time alone,” Sully offers, shifting like he’s going to sit up. “This is how we end our nights when T.J. is here.”

“Yup.” T.J. loops his arms around Sully’s neck, pulling him back down. “Dad and I talk until he falls asleep, and then I move to the big bed because he steals all my covers.”

Sully’s mouth falls open, and he gives our little guy a look of feigned shock.

In this moment, I don’t even recognize him. This teasing, joking man disappeared years ago. Yet here he is, resurfacing in Jersey, making T.J. smile.

My icy shield melts just a little more. My son deserves this.

“No,” I say. “You two enjoy your tradition. It’s sweet.”

“Mom,” T.J. whines. “I need my good-night kiss.”

Right. He’d never let me forget aboutourgood-night routine. I don’t let T.J. sleep in my bed because of the whole naked sleeping thing, of course. I never even lie down with him because he’s never been big on cuddles. Yet here he is, snuggled up close to his dad like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Without thinking, I lean over Sully to plant a kiss on my little guy’s forehead.

Sully sucks in a breath and goes completely still beneath me.

I freeze too. We haven’t been this close since the night he knocked me up. And before that? I can’t remember the last time we touched, let alone brushed up against one another. The familiarity of not only his scent but the warmth of him makes my stomach swoop.

“Now kiss Dad good night,” T.J. instructs.

The swoop turns into a bit of a drop. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the two of them planned this.

Though Sully’s lips twitch, I’m like a deer in headlights. But I don’t want to ruin this perfect moment with our son, so I peck the scruff of his cheek, the move quick and meaningless.

Or so I try to tell myself. Because nothing is meaningless when it comes to us.

And if the way Sully is looking at me is any indication, my husband feels the effects of that simple touch as well.