"I—" The words got stuck. I tried again. "I'll be glued to your side, I swear."
The girls didn't let the moment drag. Mere tugged the ladder to absolute stability, then looked straight up at me, chin dripping. "You want help down?"
I found my footing and made the move, one careful step at a time. Every muscle in my thighs felt like cooked spaghetti. The second my sneakers landed solidly, I nearly folded. My mind was spinning ahead to what it would feel like being in a room with him again, too close, nowhere to run from that pull.
The twins just waited, rain flattening Fifi's wisps of red hair against her cheeks. They looked older than they had the night before. Resolved and kind of worn out, but not hiding from the moment.
I wanted to say something wise, something that would anchor us all. Instead, my brain defaulted to sarcasm. "Can we all just agree that Christmas lights area scam? The only thing worse than putting them up is untangling them in a monsoon."
Fifi cracked half a smile. Mere rolled her eyes, but it was gentle, affectionate, the kind of silent appreciation of my effort.
Huey barked again, this time more shrilly, and hopped around a leaf. I wondered, for a bizarre minute, if even he could sense how big this was.
I bent to grab the light cord out of the water, hands slick and shaking. "So," I said, keeping my voice light, "want to hash out details inside, or do we do all our family milestones in hypothermia now?"
The rain answered for me, dumping a fresh sheet straight down my collar. I yelped.
Fifi's laughter was short and bright. "Maybe inside. Unless you want to catch pneumonia for the holidays."
We all made for the door, Mere taking the lead and Fifi hanging back long enough to grab Huey by the collar. She was good like that, taking care of what she loved, even when her brain was spinning.
The word "father" echoed in my ears. The twins had made the call, and I was in, every second, every breath.
Inside, I ditched the dripping coat in the laundry closet, then wiped my palms on my wet sweats. I could see the trail of muddy pawprints alreadystreaking the entry, but I'd have them cleaned up by sundown.
The moment was huge, bigger than I'd expected. It took all my effort not to collapse under the weight of it. Relief, fear, hope, terror, all mashed into one tight ache behind my sternum. And layered under the relief was a sharp little jolt of anticipation, the kind that made me feel off balance when I imagined facing him again.
They wanted to meet their father.
Not just for me. For themselves.
It felt like a holiday miracle, and I didn't know what to do with it.
"Mom?" Mere called. "You making hot chocolate or what?"
I snapped back to reality. "Coming!"
The kitchen looked different. Almost normal. Most of the moving boxes had vanished, replaced by shelves of cookbooks and our weird mug collection. I'd been stress-unpacking, one cardboard casualty at a time. A few boxes lingered by the pantry, but they were almost gone, gaping half-empty as if they'd been raided overnight by raccoons with a grudge.
The girls didn't even try to towel off before they flopped into chairs. Mere's braid had already come unspooled, and Fifi dripped steadily into alittle pool under the table. Huey, ever the disaster enthusiast, paraded in behind them and shook, launching a confetti of rainwater and dog hair straight onto my sweats.
I snatched a dish towel and blotted at Huey, pretending this wasn't the fourth time in twenty-four hours I'd cleaned muddy pawprints off the linoleum.
Sometimes, parenting was just trading one mess for another. Especially dog-momming.
I poured the milk and dumped in twice the recommended cocoa powder. Comfort food wasn't negotiable for this round of family "negotiations." I set the mugs in front of the girls.
Steam rolled off the cocoa. Fifi practically hugged hers, letting the warmth soak up through her sleeves.
She was the first to break. "Can we set, like, time limits? I'm not doing an all-day visit."
I barked a laugh. "Absolutely. We go in, we do introductions, and after an hour, tops, we claim homework emergencies and bail."
Mere sipped, eyebrows knitting. "And you're staying the whole time. No errands, no ‘gotta take this call' stuff."
"You couldn't pry me loose with a crowbar," I promised, right hand raised in mock scout's honor. "I'm there for the whole meeting."
They traded glances, some silent twin communication zipping between them. Huey punctuated the moment by circling under the table and thunking his head into Fifi's knee, demanding attention, or possibly applause.
