"I have no idea what I'm doing," he whispers back.
"Join the club. It's called parenting."
The fossil dig area is filled with sand where partially buried replica bones wait to be discovered. Tyler approaches with purpose, grabbing a small brush from a basket and dropping to his knees in the sand. Logan follows suit, awkwardly lowering his large frame into the kid-sized space.
"Look for bones," Tyler instructs, all business now that he's in his element.
"Yes, sir," Logan says, earning another almost-smile.
I hang back with Jessica, both of us watching the pair brush sand away from a long bone that might be part of a leg.
"He's a good kid," I say softly.
Jessica's eyes never leave Tyler. "The best."
"You've done an amazing job with him."
Now she glances at me, surprise flickering across her features. "Thank you."
We stand in silence for a moment, the weight of our complicated situation pressing down on both of us.
"I'll never try to replace you," I say finally. "I just want you to know that."
"I know." Her voice is tight but not unkind. "And I didn't do this to disrupt your lives. I did it for him."
I nod, understanding. We're not friends—may never be—but we both care about what’s best for the same small person, and that has to count for something.
Tyler's excited voice breaks the moment. "I found a tooth! Daddy, look!"
Daddy. The word hangs in the air between us all. Logan's eyes widen, his hand frozen in the sand. Jessica's breath catches audibly. Tyler doesn't notice the adults' reactions, too busy brandishing his discovery.
"That's... that's awesome, buddy, high five!" Logan manages, his voice thick, putting his hand up. Tyler reaches up and puts his tiny hand in Logan’s and they look at each other proudly.
We move from exhibit to exhibit, Tyler gradually growing more comfortable with both Logan and me. At the construction zone, he shows us how to use the pulley system to lift foam blocks to the second level of a half-built structure.
"You have to pull hard," he explains, demonstrating with his small arms. "Like this."
I follow his instructions, exaggerating my effort to make him giggle. "Am I doing it right?"
"No, no. Like THIS." He takes the rope from my hands, showing me again with the earnest patience of a child who knows he's the expert.
Jessica checks her watch. "We should probably start heading out, Ty. It's almost lunchtime."
Tyler's face falls slightly. "But we didn't see the water room."
"Next time," Logan says quickly. "Maybe next week?"
Tyler looks to Jessica, who nods. "Next time."
As we gather their belongings—a small dinosaur backpack, Jessica's purse—Tyler tugs on Logan's pant leg. "Will she come too?" He points at me.
All eyes turn my way. I feel the weight of the question—not just about museum visits but about my place.
"If that's okay with you," I say carefully.
Tyler considers this, head tilted in that Logan-like way. "You're good at building stuff."
"High praise," Jessica says dryly, but there's the faintest hint of amusement in her tone.
