Atlas
Even though it's technically my house, I still ring the doorbell.
As I said, I'm in a nice dress shirt—dark gray with black pants and black dress shoes. My hands grip a bouquet of vibrant orange and yellow flowers. I went to Joanne, our local florist, and worked with her to craft the arrangement.
"I need a bouquet for a woman who is pure sunshine," I told Joanne.
She snapped her fingers. "Got it!"
It's beautiful. The deep orange reminds me of my wife's hair and the yellow reminds me of the sunshine feeling I get when she smiles at me. It's my Wendy in flower form.
The door swings open, and my sons stand there: Liam, with his eyes narrowed and arms crossed, and Noah, attempting to mimic his brother, but the bright smile on his face cuts the intimidation in half.
"Hi, Daddy!" Noah chirps, rushing to hug me. I open my arms and carefully wrap them around him, being careful of the bouquet as I bend to kiss his little ginger head.
"Hi, buddy," I murmur into his hair, pulling back to see him smiling brightly up at me—his mama's smile.
"Noah, we're supposed to be intimidating," Liam says through gritted teeth.
"Oh! Right," Noah nods, before walking back next to his brother and crossing his arms. He puts on a scowl that looks a lot cuter than he intends it to and growls, "What are your inpentions with our Mama?"
Liam sighs disappointedly, and I bark a laugh, "Myintentions?Where did you hear that?"
"Internet," Liam and Noah say at the same time.
I smile, straighten my face, and say to them:
"My intentions are to take your Mama out on a nice date and return her home safely to you."
"Where are you taking her?" Noah asks.
"Antonia's."
Liam scoffs, "Mama deserves more than Antonia's."
Tough crowd, though pride swells in me, because this is exactly the example I want to set for my sons: how to treat someone they love.
"She does, but Antonia's is important to us, and—" I crouch down to meet each of my son's eyes, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "I have plans."
"What time will you be bringing her back?"
"Before your bedtime," I tell them as Noah steps aside to let me into the house.
I glance around, my eyes drinking in the familiar space. Nothing has changed since I was here last. The same family pictures line the walls. The same furniture in each room, and the scent of lemon cleaner and warm vanilla floats through the air.
Liam gestures at the flowers in my hand, smirking.
"Not bad. I would've gone with roses, though."
Noah snickers. "Yeah, that's because they'reBirdie'sfavorite flower—"
"Shut up," Liam snaps at a giggling Noah.
"Boys..."
At that voice, I glance up, and my throat goes dry.
Wendy's walking down the stairs, her beautiful body in that perfect dress I had pleasant dreams about last night.
