"And now look at us." She shakes her head, grinning. "Life's funny that way."
Eli jogs over to Max and Emma, his lanky ten-year-old body already showing signs of the man he'll become. He kneels down beside them, helping Max build what looks like a sand castle. The sight warms my heart. Eli has been like a cousin to Max since the beginning, always patient with the younger boy's admiration and endless questions.
"How's the nursing program going?" Claire asks, pulling my attention back.
"Challenging but worth it," I tell her. "One more year and I'll finally have my degree."
Returning to nursing school had seemed like an impossible dream when I first arrived in Blackwater Falls. But with Dean's encouragement and support, I'd enrolled in a nearby college's part-time program. Between Dean, Claire's help, and the local daycare, we've managed to make it work.
"The clinic's already promised me a position when I graduate," I add. "They desperately need another nurse practitioner."
"That's fantastic," Claire says, genuinely pleased.
Her own secondhand clothing store has become one of the most successful businesses in town, proving that both of us have comea long way from the desperate women who sought refuge in Blackwater Falls.
Dean and Rage approach, their conversation shifting to laughter as they join us on the blanket. Dean immediately leans over to kiss me, his hand settling comfortably on my knee.
"What are you ladies gossiping about?" he asks, stealing a strawberry from the container.
"Just how lucky we are to have such handsome, charming husbands," Claire replies with exaggerated sweetness.
Rage snorts. "Sure you were."
"Actually," I say, leaning against Dean's shoulder, "we were talking about how far we've all come. Three years ago, I was sleeping in my car with a sick toddler, and now..."
"And now you're stuck with me," Dean finishes, squeezing my knee. "Poor you."
"The poorest," I agree, tilting my face up for another kiss.
"Ew, gross!" Max's voice interrupts us. He stands before us, hands on his hips. "No kissing in public!"
Dean laughs, reaching out to ruffle our son's hair. "Since when are you the kissing police, buddy?"
"Since forever," Max declares with the absolute certainty of a five-year-old.
I sit up straighter, scanning the playground. "Wasn't Emma with you?"
"She's with Eli," he says, pointing toward the swings where Eli is pushing Emma in a baby swing. "Can I have juice?"
I hand him a juice box, my heart rate settling as I confirm Emma is safe. Even after three years, the instinct to panic when I don'timmediately see my children hasn't faded. Some scars from those desperate days never quite heal.
Dean notices, as he always does, his hand finding mine and squeezing gently. He understands without words. Another gift of our unexpected partnership.
The afternoon sun warms the park as Eli and Max take turns pushing Emma on the swing. Her delighted giggles carry across the playground, the sound still miraculous to me after all the tears and fears that preceded her birth.
"She's getting so big," Claire comments, watching Emma. "It feels like yesterday you were telling me you were pregnant."
I smile, remembering the mixture of shock and joy when I realized I was expecting again. Dean and I had been cautious, knowing our relationship was still new, but the news had only strengthened our commitment to building a life together.
"Time flies," I agree. "Max starts kindergarten in the fall. I can hardly believe it."
"Eli's already asking about joining football," Rage adds. "Kid's growing up too fast."
Dean nods in understanding. "Max wants a motorcycle. Told him he has to wait until he's at least ten, and you'd think I'd sentenced him to life without dessert."
"But Daddy," Rage mimics in a childish voice, making us all laugh.
"Exactly," Dean grins. "Complete with the puppy dog eyes."
