“OK, enough crying,” Kya announces. “This is a party. Crying is not allowed. Steel! Put on some Christmas music!”
“It’s July!” someone yells from across the room.
“I SAID CHRISTMAS MUSIC!”
Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas’ starts blasting through the speakers and suddenly everyone’s laughing. The twins, Abby and Amy, abandon Steel to run around singing at the top of their lungs. Their little brother, Adam, trips over his own feet and lands on his butt, looking stunned for a moment before dissolving into giggles.
Bones leans down, his mouth close to my ear. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I say, meaning it. “I’m really good.”
He kisses my temple and I lean back into him, watching the chaos unfold around us. Duck is teaching the twins some kind of dance move that looks like a cross between the robot and a seizure. Maggie is trying to get Adam to eat a cookie but he’s more interested in smashing it into his face. Hawk has joined Steel near the tree, both of them trying to prevent ornaments from being destroyed.
This is my family now. These people, this place, this beautifully chaotic life.
18
EMMA
The party continues for another hour. Someone brings out food—apparently Maggie made her famous pulled pork—and suddenly there are plates everywhere. Bones feeds me bites of sandwich while I hold Rose again, who’s decided my lap is the best place in the world and whined until I took her back.
“She’s going to get too comfortable,” Poppy warns. “Then we’ll never get her back.”
“I’m fine with that,” I say, bouncing Rose gently. She’s starting to get sleepy, her little head drooping against my chest.
“Famous last words,” Axel says, but he’s smiling. “Wait until she needs a diaper change.”
“Oh, I’ll be giving her back then,” I promise.
Dad makes his way over to us, Josie still at his side. He looks at me holding Rose, and something soft crosses his face.
“You’re good with her,” he says.
“She’s easy to be good with.”
“Still.” He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with whatever he wants to say next. “You’d make a good mother someday.”
I blink, completely blindsided. “Dad?—”
“Just saying.” He shifts his weight. “No pressure. Just . . . you’re good at this. The teaching, the kids, all of it.”
It’s possibly the most awkward compliment I’ve ever received, but also kind of sweet. Josie catches my eye and smiles, and I get the feeling she coached him on this.
“Thanks, Dad.”
He nods, satisfied, then moves away to talk to Tank. Josie lingers for a moment.
“You make him nervous, you know,” she says quietly.
“Really?”
“Really. He’s worried he’ll say the wrong thing to you and mess everything up again. I told him not to worry, to just speak his heart.” She glances at Stone’s back, then at me. “He’s trying. We both know he’s not great at it, but he’s trying.”
“I can see that,” I say. “And Josie? Thanks. For whatever you’re doing to help him figure out the dad thing.”
She smiles. “He’s not as hopeless as he thinks he is.”
The afternoon stretches on, warm and easy. At some point, Rose falls asleep completely and Poppy takes her back, tucking her into a portable crib they’ve set up in one of the back rooms, Poppy wandering around with her phone in hand and the baby monitor on screen once she’s down. The twins are stillgoing strong, now convinced that Duck is secretly Santa and demanding he prove it.
