Bob kisses the top of her head, and Landon tenses again, so I rub my thumb down the side of his throat to soothe him. How hard must this be for him? Is he wondering how his life would look if he had parents like this?If acceptance and love were something he had from the start? He relaxes against my touch, humming low in his throat as he slumps harder into my side.
Liz sits up abruptly. “Oh! Should we bring out the photo albums?”
Parker groans. “Absolutely not.”
“Please.” She sticks her lower lip out. “You’ve never brought a partner home before, and Loser Lincoln grew up with you.”
“Loser Lincoln?” Landon asks as I burst into laughter.
Bob nods. “Yeah, fitting name for that little jerk.”
“Dad,” Parker groans. “It’s beenyears.We can let it go.”
“No.” Bob shakes his head. “You’re my only child, and that insecure little boy hurt you. When my body is ash and my soul returned to the universe, I’ll still hate him.”
Parker’s silent for a second before they giggle. “Fair.”
“I have to agree,” I say.
Landon nods. “Yeah. Lincoln’s on my forever shit list.”
Grinning, Bob sits up. “If you really don’t want us to bring them out, we won’t.”
After a brief hesitation, Parker sighs. “Fine, you can. It’s not like I hide much of anything from these two, anyway.”
Liz squeals. “Oh, they were just the most adorable kid. You’ll see.”
I don’t even need to see to know it’s the truth. Liz jumps up, rushing off into the other room.
Parker sighs. “Ugh.”
“We don’t have to look, you know?” Landon says softly.
“I know, but really, it’s no big deal.”
Bob shifts on the couch, curling his legs up so he’s sitting cross-legged. “Parker was just the most vivacious child. They take after their mom thatway. My Lizzy always had the most beautiful way of looking at the world. Parker’s that way too.”
I hum. “The way they see color is incredible.”
Bob’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’ve told them about your colors, Park?”
Snuggling deeper into my side, Parker nods. “Of course. I mean, not at first, but later.”
Bob’s eyes dart between Landon and me, something sparkling in them that I can’t quite name.
Liz steps back into the room, her arms loaded down with photo albums, and Bob drags his gaze from us to her. She sits in the middle of the living room, stretching out on the plush rug.
She waves us over. “Come on down.”
Parker sits up, crawling off the couch toward her, and Lan and I follow.
When we’re all settled on our stomachs with Parker between us, Liz opens the first book, turning it around to face us. “There’s no order to these. I’m sorry.”
I can barely hear her because I’m too busy staring at a tiny Parker, their fingers covered in yellow and green paint, reaching toward the camera with a cheesy missing-tooth smile.
“How old were you here?”
“Maybe five. Mom would know.”
