“What are polar ice caps, Daddy?” Kael asks.
“Very, very big ice beds that penguins call home.”
“Their bed is made of ice?” Kael asks, astonished.
“Yes,” Nero answers—then scratches his head, as if deciding whether that was quite right.
“And they don’t feel cold?”
“No, Kael. They have very thick fur that keeps them warm.”
“Like this blanket?” Kael pulls the blanket back to show the furry lining.
“Exactly like that blanket.”
“Daddy, can you tell my mom I don’t want a penguin bed anymore? I don’t have fur, I’d be cold.”
Nero laughs, and Kael looks at him, confused. My son is pulled into a tight, cozy hug, nestling his face into the hollow of Nero’s neck before giving him a small kiss. I almost feel jealous, seeing how safe he feels in his arms—remembering the time when I felt that way too.
In profile, the two of them are exact replicas of each other. Beautiful—my son and my—
I shake my head, chasing the thought away before it can finish.
“Are you already missing me, Daddy?” Kael pulls back and looks at Nero, resting his hand lightly on his face.
“I think so, buddy,” Nero answers—and I feel he means it.
“Do you want me to asking my mom if you can sleep here?”
“Do you want me toask, buddy,” Nero corrects gently.
“I do. You can ask.”
I don’t have to be the wicked witch who says no, because Nero rushes to correct him again.
“No, buddy. I meant that you don’t saydo you want me to asking—you saydo you want me to ask.”
“Okay, but are you going to ask?”
“Not today, buddy. Remember I told you I have a house?”
“The one where the uncles live?”
“That’s right. I have to sleep there.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise your uncles get sad and cold.”
“They have beds like penguins?”
“They do.”
“Then it’s okay, Daddy. If you want to take a blanket, there’s one downstairs.”
Kael settles in, and Nero tucks him in, kissing his face twice without getting up.
“You can go now, Daddy. I’m already sleeping, see?”
