Page 32 of Single Omega Dad

“I know,” he replied as if it didn’t matter. “Hey,” he said, digging to the bottom of the bag. “What’s this?”

“What?” asked Tybor.

Luke looked up from his drawing.

Mathias pulled two little stuffed toy kittens from the bottom of the bag. They had big golden eyes. One was purple, the other blue.

The boys’ mouths dropped open.

“I wasn’t sure if maybe you two are too old for these, but I liked them. Who ever saw a purple or blue cat?” he asked.

“Maybe in cartoons?” said Tybor helpfully.

“Do they have names?” Luke asked.

“I thought maybe you could name them,” Mathias replied. He looked at Tybor. “You said purple is your favorite color, right?”

He nodded, mouth still wide open.

Mathias handed him the purple kitten.

Luke said, “I love blue!”

Mathias handed him the blue kitten.

Both boys instantly snuggled the soft-furred toys into their shining, smiling faces.

“What do you say to Mister Vandergale?” I asked them.

“Thank you, Mister Vannerga.” They did their best to pronounce his last name correctly. Well, we’d work on that.

I picked up the plate of meat and motioned out the sliding glass doors with my head. “Want to join me at the grill?”

“Of course.” Mathias walked with me and opened the doors for me.

“You didn’t have to bring them more presents,” I said.

“I know. I’m not trying to be the cool uncle or anything,” he replied.

“Aren’t you?”

The boys followed us outside, running out onto the grass toward their swing set, their kittens hugged tightly in their arms. I turned on the grill and watched them put their kitties on swings and try to give them a ride. Of course the plush toys fell immediately into the dirt.

“I knew those toys weren’t going to stay new and clean for long,” I said.

“Machine washable,” Mathias replied calmly. “I checked the tags.”

I turned on the propane grill and started placing the meat over the flames. “Do you like your steak rare, medium or well-done?”

“Rare,” he replied, watching as the kids zoomed around their swing set, their kitties held high as if they were making them fly.

“So,” I said, trying to fill the empty silence between us. “I figure we can eat first, do business later. The kids are hungry and, well, so am I.”

“Good. I came with an appetite.”

The way he said it—appetite--sent a tingle down my spine. It was stupid. I didn’t need any type of hook up or relationship right now. Honestly. And what would the neighbors say so soon after Drayden’s death?

I didn’t know what I could be thinking, allowing these feelings to surface.