“Well, Grak. I’m Tammy. Anybody who can come into my kitchen and cook something that doesn’t make me want to vomit these days is good enough for me.”
Ginger reaches over and grabs Tammy’s hand. My chest expands in pride.
Thomas and May eye me skeptically and sullenly as the children ask me questions.
“Were you born with those horns?”
“Do you carry a weapon?”
“Do you eat bad people?”
I like these children. “Yes, not currently, and I only eat very naughty children who tell stories about magic sleighs,” I answer.
This makes them laugh and shriek, which is immensely satisfying.
While the children and I carry on our conversation, Ginger turns to her mom with questions. “Having another good day today?”
Tammy smiles at her. “Yes, I am.”
“So good that you felt like making the hot cocoa station and craft station into a boutique experience?”
She looks surprised that her daughter figured it out.
“Okay, listen. I couldn’t sleep before my chemo treatment, so yes. I got up early and did all of that. I wanted to help!”
“Mom, you shouldn’t be extending yourself. You should be resting.”
She rolls her eyes. “Rest my life away when my baby needs help? Never.”
“I’m not a baby, I’m 33.”
“You’ll always be my baby.”
May rolls her eyes as she mutters, “Oh yes. The baby gets the special treatment, as always.”
Ginger opens her mouth to speak, but I squeeze her knee under the table.
I have to say something that’s been building up in my chest for a very long time.
“I never knew my parents, nor did I ever know my brothers and sisters. I wish that I had. But now that I’ve found Ginger, I have some of what I missed. I wish you all could see how beautiful your family is. Ron. Tammy. May. Thomas. Ginger. You are all precious to each other. Even you, Ashley and Reese.”
The children giggle as I growl and point my spoon at them.
Ron’s mustache twitches, and he sits back in his chair. “You can call us Mom and Dad.”
I was not expecting that.
“Really?”
Tammy smiles. “Please do. Call me Mom. I’d like that.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I do. Let’s eat,” Ginger says. My wife ladles the stew into each bowl as each member of my new family holds theirs up to the pot.
As we share this meal, I realize that, eventually, everything is going to be okay. Not perfect. But okay.
Chapter Seventeen
