Today was also special for another reason. Three years ago exactly, she had returned to this house after leaving — the day Liam had tracked her to the lake cabin and fought to bring her home. Their annual “second chance day,” though they had never formalized it with a name. Her throat tightened at the memory.
Sunny reached for the flour and began preparing the pancake batter, adding extra blueberries — a family tradition now. A noise from the hallway caught her attention, and she turned to see Ethan toddling into the kitchen, his dark hair tousled from sleep, thumb half in his mouth.
“Mama,” he said, reaching up with grabby hands, his blue eyes — so much like Liam’s — still heavy with sleep.
“Good morning, my little love.” Sunny scooped Ethan up, burying her nose in his neck and inhaling his sweet toddler scent. No matter the parenting challenges they faced, this — this perfect weight in her arms — never failed to center her. How close she had come to missing all of this.
“Are those blueberry pancakes?” Maddie appeared in the doorway, already dressed in jeans and a hockey jersey, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. At nine, she carried herself with a quiet confidence that sometimes made Sunny’s heart ache — she was growing up so fast.
“They sure are,” Sunny smiled.
“Can I set the table?” Maddie asked, reaching for the plates.
“Thank you,sweetheart.” Sunny bounced Ethan on her hip while stirring the batter one-handed, a skill perfected out of necessity.
The gentle click of nails on hardwood announced Maple’s arrival, the golden retriever’s tail wagging in perpetual optimism about breakfast. Behind her came Hailey, still in unicorn pajamas, her blonde hair a wild tangle around her face.
“Maple needs breakfast too,” Hailey announced, heading for the dog’s food bin. At eight, she remained their dreamer, the one who still looked for butterflies.
As Hailey measured out dog food, her small fingers careful with the scoop, Sunny noticed the butterfly barrette in her hair — present even in sleep. Some things never changed.
“Morning, beautiful.” Liam’s voice preceded him as he entered from his morning run, slightly winded and flushed with exertion. Even after retiring from professional hockey, he maintained his athlete’s discipline. He dropped a kiss on Sunny’s lips and ruffled Ethan’s hair.
“Dada stinky,” Ethan murmured, wrinkling his nose.
Liam laughed, snagging a blueberry from the counter. “That’s because Daddy works hard, buddy. You ready for your big skate today?”
“I fall,” Ethan said matter-of-factly.
“Everyone falls,” Liam replied gently. “The brave ones get back up.”
Sunny caught Liam’s eye over their son’s head, the words carrying extra weight between them. How many falls had they weathered? How many times had they found the courage to stand again?
“Dad, is Tyler bringing Emma to practice today?” Maddie asked as she arranged the forks with precision.
“He should be,” Liam confirmed, reaching for a coffee mug. “And actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, Sunny.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow, sliding the first batch of pancakes onto a warming plate.“Oh?”
“Tyler’s really struggling. Emma’s been acting out at school, and he’s overwhelmed trying to do everything alone.” Liam lowered his voice slightly. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
The parallel wasn’t lost on Sunny. Tyler Reynolds, former team captain turned manager, was now raising his six-year-old daughter alone after his wife left them last year.
“You think he needs help?” Sunny asked, already knowing the answer.
“I think he needs a Sunny,” Liam replied simply.
The front door opened before she could respond, and Beth’s familiar voice called out, “Good morning, Andersons! I come bearing carbs!”
Beth appeared in the kitchen doorway, a basket of muffins in hand, her gray hair cut in a stylish bob that took years off her appearance. At sixty-five, she had refused to fully retire, insisting on remaining part of their extended family three days a week.
“Beth!” Hailey abandoned Maple’s food bowl and ran for a hug.
“Just in time,” Sunny smiled. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
As they settled around the table — Ethan in his booster seat and Maple hopeful beneath — Sunny felt that familiar wave of gratitude wash over her. This beautiful chaos was hers. This family, patched together from broken pieces, had become whole.
Yet, as she passed plates and poured juice, a small worry nagged at her. She had noticed Maddie growing quieter over the past week, retreating into herself in a way that reminded Sunny of those difficult early days. Something was bothering her eldest daughter, and Sunny couldn’t shake the feeling it was connected to the approaching Mother’s Day festivities at school.
