It only makes me more determined to make every future holiday an even more magical affair.
We wentwayoverboard with gifts for Lucky to the point the entire floor is covered with new toys, playsets, clothes, shoes, and anything else that caught one of our eyes.
Charlotte moves to the couch with Patrick while she’s in the middle of opening her gifts just to have some space away from his massive pile.
Malachy picked a kids’ tool bench, complete with a working plastic drill, screws, screwdrivers, wrenches, a fake saw, and hammers. The moment Lucky opened that box, he lost interest in the other gifts—both wrapped and unwrapped.
We might have to do a second round of gift opening this evening. He woke up quite early, and he’s become a bit cranky and fussy waiting for his new tool bench to be assembled.
Charlotte gets up and brings him a sippy cup of milk. “Here, why don’t you come sit with me while we wait?”
“No,” he grunts around the spout to his cup. My eyes widen as the boy comes right to me.
“Would you like me to hold you?” I ask as he leans against my knee.
“Okay.” His head bobs up and down.
My eyes dart to Charlotte to make sure it won’t hurt her feelings, since he just declined sitting with her. She’s already distracted by Patrick again, and he hands her another gift.
I pick up Lucky, and he rests his cheek on my shoulder. My body naturally sways back and forth.
Perhaps it’s a biological impulse.
I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m trying. He needs to spend time with all of us. At some point, I imagine he’ll realize he has three new dads.
The thought doesn’t scare me in the way I assumed it would.
My major fear is that I’ll fuck something up.
Parenting is the hardest job on the planet. I came to that conclusion while I was watching Charlotte trying to manage it all alone. Now she has us, but we’re getting more of what I would consider on-the-job training. Though, I suppose that’s true for all parents.
Lucky pats my shoulder as his cup squeaks, releasing air as he sucks down the milk. I smile and nuzzle my cheek to his head.
I bet he’ll take a short nap and wake up ready to play with his new toys.
“I can’t wait to see it on you,” Patrick says, catching my attention. “You can wear it when I take you for your shooting lessons.”
Charlotte has already shoved whatever inappropriate gift he gave her back into the bag. Her cheeks are pink, but her entire demeanor is lighter than before.
Sometimes I’m jealous of how he manages to put others at ease.
This isn’t one of those times.
I like to think that each one of us brings something to the table that Charlotte needs.
The couch is piled high with the gifts she’s already opened, and a few she hasn’t, but she ignores them all, climbing onto Patrick’s lap. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her in for a kiss. Just based on the look on his face, I’d say he’s well on his way to falling in love with her. It might make me a bit jealous, but it’s a good thing.
I continue to sway side to side, rocking Lucky to sleep.
Hopefully she’s happy with her presents. Between the three of us, she got an entirely new wardrobe, shoes, a purse and wallet, a bookshelf, all the books she could possibly need to fill that bookshelf, jewelry—which might be a bad call since I’venever actually seen her wear any—and Patrick got her a new gun and lessons at the shooting range we frequent.
I thought the last one might be in poor taste, but it looks like Charlotte has a sense of humor about that ordeal.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cormac
Ilie Lucky down on his bed, facing him toward the wall.
