Page 50 of Better Daddy

In his effort to explain, he releases the tree, and it tilts to one side. Luckily, it’s wedged against the crown molding, so it doesn’t fall over completely.

“Now look what you did,” Sully grumbles.

Lo yells, “More to the right!”

“Where’s Brian?” I ask. “And the kids?”

Lo shifts her focus from the tree to me. “They went to walk Fuzzy. How was the doctor?”

I smile at Sully. “It was good. Baby is measuring right on time.”

Cal grins widely at us. “I can’t wait to be an uncle again. When are you telling T.J.?”

“Telling me what?”

We spin around to find T.J. and Murphy with Brian and his monstrosity of a cat behind them.

Rather than step into the room, the cat cowers, backing away from the tree, and darts behind the man he’s imprinted on.

“What the hell did you do?” Brian yells. He steps forward, only to tumble to the floor because the cat’s leash is wrapped around his legs.

“Shit.” I rush to help him up while Sully tries to unhook Fuzzy from his leash. “Maybe try rolling left.”

He goes right.

“Your other left.”

He goes right again.

“Brian,” I grit out. “Work with me here.”

“Dammit,” T.J. and Murphy say, mimicking Brian’s voice. They dissolve into fits of giggles and fall into a heap.

The cat, thinking he’s being called, prances around them.

I yank on the leash, figuring I might have an easier time, but I think it gets caught on Brian’s zipper, and he yowls, grabbing his crotch.

“Dammit!” he grits out.

The cat lunges for him, landing on his chest with enough force to knock the wind from him. His back paws, unfortunately, hit Brian right where the sun doesn’t shine.

The howl he lets loose sends shivers down my spine.

“I’ll get ice,” Lo calls.

“Why doesn’t Fuzzy ever snuggle me like that?” Cal pouts.

Sully blows out a breath. “Maybe we should take T.J. out to tell him the big news.”

I nod. “Good idea.”

“Can I get ice cream?” T.J. asks before we’ve even entered the restaurant across the street. He’s been begging us to tell himthe big newssince we got Brian untangled.

Bringing T.J. to the Grasshopper to tell him feels right. There’s a sense of kismet here. This is where we had dinner the night our baby bear was made, so telling T.J. about him or her here feels like coming full circle.

Our future may still be uncertain, but Sully and I are a team. We have to be. So I’m thankful we can do this together.

“Let’s sit, then we can order ice cream,” Sully tells him.