“Mrs. Kowalski?—”
She opened the door, and she was gone, leaving me holding her schedule and feeling thoroughly chastised.
I stood in the living room, studying the schedule. Every hour accounted for. Every meal planned. Every activity organized down to the minute.
It was brilliant. Exactly what I would have created myself a month ago.
And it made me want to set it on fire.
Last night at Theresa’s house had been bedlam—toys everywhere, bairns tumbling over each other. But there had beenlifein that house. Noise. Color. Warmth.
Here, everything ran like clockwork. My children moved through their days on schedule, well-behaved and quiet. Too bloody quiet.
I looked at the paper again.Football practice at two. Bedtime routines starting at seven.Everything measured and controlled, just like my life had been since Shannon died. Just like I thought I wanted it.
Until I met a woman with four kids and chaos in her wake who made me remember what it felt like to actually breathe.
Sod it.
I climbed the stairs and knocked on Alec’s door. “Family meeting. Living room. Five minutes. Not a request.”
A grunt from inside.
I pushed the door open without waiting for permission. Alec lay on his bed, book in hand, deliberately not looking at me.
“Did you hear me?”
“Heard you.” His voice was flat. “Don’t care.”
“That’s unfortunate, because you’re coming anyway.” I kept my voice level. “You may be angry with me, but you’ll still show me the courtesy of acknowledging when I speak to you. Five minutes, Alec. Downstairs.”
I didn’t wait for a response. If I’d learned anything from my own father, it was that some orders weren’t up for debate.
I gathered the others—Brody from his room, the twins from the backyard, Eoin from the bathroom where he was, thankfully, just washing his hands. Maggie was already in her playpen, content with her blocks.
They assembled in the living room, settling onto the couch in birth order like little soldiers awaiting inspection. Alec slouched at one end, radiating resentment. Brody sat with his hands folded in his lap. The twins perched side by side, nearly identical in posture.
Christ. What had I done to them?
“Right,” I said, standing before them. “We’re making some changes today.”
Six pairs of eyes stared at me. Alec’s head came up slightly from his book.
“Changes?” Brody’s forehead creased with worry. “What kind of changes?”
I held up Mrs. Kowalski’s schedule, then deliberately folded it and shoved it into my pocket. “There is no football practicetoday. No organized activities. No following the schedule like we’re running a military operation.”
“But—” Brody’s voice rose with anxiety. “But we’re supposed to follow the schedule. Mrs. Kowalski said?—”
“Mrs. Kowalski isn’t here. And I’m your father.” I looked at each of them in turn. “When’s the last time we did something spontaneous? Something for the simple joy of it, not because it was on a timetable?”
Silence.
“Exactly.” I moved to the closet and grabbed my jacket. “We’re going to the Oakland Zoo.”
“The zoo?” Cory’s eyes widened.
“But it’s not on the schedule,” Brody said, still clinging to order like a lifeline.
