"He's a con artist in a fur coat," I add, watching as Thor moves on to Garrett, suddenly developing a limp—his old fake injury from when Rex used to bring him to the clinic for attention.
"Is he limping?" Lily asks, concerned.
"Only when he wants something," Rex says dryly. "Thor, knock it off."
Thor immediately stops limping, sits perfectly, and gives Rex his most innocent look. Everyone laughs.
"That dog is too smart for his own good," John says.
"That dog is why we're all here," Rex corrects, pulling me closer against his side on the couch. "If he hadn't been such a terrible actor, I might not have worked up the courage to actually talk to Daisy."
Thor wags his tail, clearly proud of himself, then settles at my feet with a contented sigh. Our two current foster cats—a bonded pair of seniors that Rex agreed to—watch from their perch on the cat tree with typical feline disdain for the dog's attention-seeking behavior.
"Tell them," Rex says once everyone's comfortable, his hand warm on my knee.
I do. The whole story about Dr. Mitchell's conversation, his retirement plans, the possibility of buying the clinic in a few years. By the time I finish, Bunny's actually bouncing in her seat.
"That's amazing!" She leans forward, sloshing her wine slightly. "You could own it!"
"Eventually. Maybe. If we can figure out the finances." I glance at Rex. "It's a lot to think about."
"We've got time to plan it right," Rex says, his hand warm on my knee. "Two or three years to save, strategize, make sure we're ready."
"That's what we're here for," Marshall says, his hand still on Charlotte's back in that constant, grounding way he has. "Making sure our girls don't drown in their own generosity."
Charlotte rolls her eyes fondly. "The library's tripled its programming since Mason started helping me say no to every single volunteer request that came through."
"You were teaching four story times a week and taking home work every night," Marshall reminds her.
"And now I teach two and actually enjoy them," she admits.
"The clinic's staff actually respects boundaries now," I add. "Because Rex taught me I'm allowed to have them. Jennifer doesn't call me at home anymore unless it's a real emergency. Mark doesn't expect me to stay late to keep him company. It's... better."
"Garrett made me raise my yoga prices," Lily says, tucking herself against his side. "I was charging fifteen dollars for hour-long classes because I felt bad asking for more."
"You're worth forty, minimum," Garrett says firmly. "And you're always booked now, so clearly I was right."
"And I make sure Bunny actually sleeps instead of working on candy orders until three AM because she doesn't want to disappoint anyone," John adds, pressing a kiss to his wife's temple.
Bunny sticks her tongue out at him. "Bossy Daddy."
"Your bossy Daddy," he corrects, pulling her closer.
It's so casual. So natural. The way they all talk about their dynamics without explaining or apologizing. Like it's just... who they are. Part of the fabric of their relationships, woven in with the love and trust and everyday moments.
"To bossy Daddies," Charlotte toasts, raising her sparkling cider.
"To little girls who let them be bossy," I counter, raising my wine.
We clink glasses, and Thor chooses that exact moment to steal a cookie from the coffee table and bolt toward the back door, the evidence hanging from his mouth.
"Thor!" Rex is up immediately, but Thor's already outside with his prize.
"Let him have it," Bunny laughs. "It's a maple walnut. Those are basically healthy."
"They have a pound of butter in them," John points out.
"Semantics."
