The Chicago Children's Museum pulses with Thursday morning energy—school groups in matching t-shirts, toddlers darting between exhibits, parents sipping travel mugs of coffee while trailing behind small explorers. I twist my fingers together, scanning the crowded entrance hall for Logan. My heart beats a nervous rhythm. Meeting a boyfriend's child is significant enough; meeting a child he just discovered he had three days ago feels monumental. Logan spots me from near the ticket counter, his face lightening with relief as he waves me over.
"Hey," he says, pressing a quick kiss to my temple. His voice is tight with nerves. "Thanks for coming."
"Of course. I had some PTO built up." I squeeze his hand, noting how his palm is damp with sweat. "Are they here yet?"
He nods toward the dinosaur exhibit. "Jessica texted. They're by the T-Rex."
We move through the museum, past a water table where preschoolers splash with gleeful abandon, beyond a bubble station where iridescent spheres float toward the ceiling. Logan walks stiffly beside me, his shoulders set in a rigid line.
I stop him and turn him toward me touching his chest, "Breathe," I murmur, and I wait until he exhales like he'd forgotten how. “You got this,” I tell him. His eyes light up.
Then I see them—Jessica standing near a massive T-Rex head that juts from the wall, her hand resting on the shoulder of a small boy who's staring up at the dinosaur in wonder. The sight of Tyler steals my breath. Even from this distance, the resemblance is unmistakable—Logan's eyes, Logan's jawline, Logan's contemplative head tilt as he studies something interesting.
"He's beautiful," I whisper.
Logan makes a strangled sound that might be agreement.
Jessica spots us first. Her posture shifts subtly, spine straightening, chin lifting. She kneels down to say something to Tyler, who turns to look our way. His small face registers curiosity, then uncertainty. He presses back against his mother's legs.
We close the distance. Jessica offers a tight smile. "Logan. You're right on time." Her gaze slides to me, cool assessment in her expression. "And you must be Reese."
"Yes. It's nice to meet you." The words sound stiff, formal. But what's the protocol here? Nice to meet you, woman who had a child with the man I'm dating? There's no etiquette guide for this situation.
"Tyler," Jessica says gently, "can you say hello to your dad and his friend Reese?"
Tyler peeks around his mother's leg, one small hand clutching the fabric of her jeans. His hazel eyes—exact replicas of Logan's—take us in with solemn curiosity. He's dressed in tiny jeans and a blue T-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur on it. His dark hair falls across his forehead in the same way Logan's does when it's not styled.
"Hi," he says, the single syllable barely audible over the museum's thrumming.
Logan kneels, bringing himself to Tyler's level. "Hi, buddy. I like your shirt. Is that a stegosaurus?"
Tyler's eyes widen slightly. "No. Triceratops."
"Oh, right." Logan nods seriously. "Three horns. I should've known that."
The corner of Tyler's mouth twists into an almost-smile. He glances up at his mother, then back to Logan.
I kneel beside Logan, following his lead. Years of working with shy kindergartners has taught me not to push too hard,too fast. "I heard you like dinosaurs," I say. "Which one's your favorite?"
Tyler studies me, considering. After a long moment: "T-Rex."
"Really? Mine too!" I point to the massive head on the wall. "Look how big his teeth are. Can you imagine his mommy brushing those every night?"
Tyler's eyes light up. He steps slightly away from Jessica's legs. "And they had tiny arms."
"Super tiny," I agree, holding my arms close to my chest and wiggling my fingers in T-Rex fashion. "Makes it hard to give hugs."
That earns a real smile, a flash of tiny teeth and dimpled cheeks. Jessica shifts her weight above us, her hand still protective on Tyler's shoulder.
"There's a fossil dig area through there," she says. "Tyler's been wanting to check it out."
Logan stands, brushing off his jeans. "Lead the way, bud."
Tyler hesitates, looking from Logan to me to Jessica. Then he points toward the next exhibit. "This way!"
We follow him through the museum, Jessica keeping pace beside Tyler while Logan and I trail slightly behind. I catch Logan watching his son with a mixture of awe and terror, like he can't quite believe this small person exists and shares his DNA.
"You're doing great," I whisper, bumping his shoulder with mine.
