Page 53 of Better Than Baby

Angie draped a blue blanket with cars on Aaron’s shoulder, her voice was choked with tears as she ran a manicured nailalong his chubby hand. “This is for you, Xan-man. I’m rooting for you and your family. They’re gonna love you something fierce. I know it. Have a good life, do good things, and be your badass self.”

She broke with a sob, kissing his cheek before stepping aside.

“Thank you for everything.” I hugged her. It was one-armed and awkward but sincere.

Then we were alone.

A family of four, standing at the end of our driveway.

A flashback clouded my vision for a moment. We were young, unsure of each other, but willing to take a risk on the unknown.

“I’m afraid that you’ll decide you want to be with a woman. That you want a wife, kids, dog, house in the suburbs…things I can’t give you. Well, I guess I could do the dog, but not the others. Those other things are normal and expected, and it’s a lifestyle you always thought you’d have. Are you sure you want me instead?”

I’d told him I didn’t see why I couldn’t have a husband, kids, a dog, and an apartment in the city. But somehow, we’d ended up in the suburbs after all.

We walked side by side to the front door and stopped at the sound of Murphy barking and our neighbor calling after him.

I waved Katie off. “It’s okay. Let him come.”

Aaron crouched low, chuckling when Murphy circled him like a small whirlwind. “Gentle, Murph. Say hi to Xander.”

He licked Xander’s cheek, which for some reason was high comedy. Xander giggled and reached for the puppy. Mia mewled in her car seat as if wanting to get in on the action.

I met Aaron’s gaze and grinned.

This was our family, our new beginning.

We were finally on our way.

epilogue

“Children haveone kind of silliness, as you know, and grown-ups have another kind.”?C.S. Lewis

Three years later

“Daddy, look at mine! This is so good, huh?”

Mia pushed a stray strand of long raven hair over her shoulder, leaving a streak of white frosting across her cheek. She set the plastic knife on the island—messy side down—and proudly held a cupcake for inspection while shaking her hips to the beat of the kids’ show theme song playing on the flat-screen in the adjacent family room.

I admired the glob of vanilla with an indulgent grin. “So good. Watch the dancing on that stool, Meems. I don’t want you to fall. How’s yours coming along, Xan?”

“Almost done. Are we putting sprinkles on now? Papa likes the rainbow ones,” he said in a serious tone, his blond bangs falling forward as he reached for another cupcake.

“Ooh! I love rainbow spinkles!” Mia shimmied on the stool.

“Sprinkles,” Xander corrected with a laugh. “Not spinkles.”

Mia giggled, then bent to let Murphy lick frosting from her fingers. “I know’d it. Can I put sprinkles on mine now?”

“You’ll have to wash your hands first. You’ve got Murph cooties.” I kissed the top of her head, because I couldn’t resist, before sidling next to Xander to check out the perfectly even row of frosted cupcakes in front of him.

Unlike his sister, Xander approached most chores with the precision of a heart surgeon. His ratio of cake to frosting was exact, and the spread of sugary goodness was meticulously even. Our son was nothing if not precise when it came to building Legos or block towers, or being a sous chef. Much like his Papa, Xan didn’t appreciate messes or unnecessary chaos.

Unless it had something to do with football. Xan loved football. Favorite team? The Steelers, of course.

Mia, on the other hand, was a true free spirit. She skipped and danced wherever she went, usually wearing a tutu and a tiara, with Murphy chasing after her. I’d never met a three-and-a-half-year-old more comfortable in their own skin in my life. She was fearless, ferociously confident, and endlessly curious.

You know the kid who asked twenty questions in response to every basic statement of fact? That was Mia.