I just got this family of mine and there is no way I’m going to go down without a fight.
“You won’t. I will do everything I can to make sure he stays with us.”
That has a grin spreading across my face. “With us?”
Sutton nods. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.”
“Daddy. Where are you?” Troy’s voice echoes throughout the house.
“Outside, bud,” I call. Tiny footsteps patter outside before my mini me is standing in front of me. “How’d you sleep?”
“I had funny dreams.”
“Dreams about what?” Sutton lifts him up onto her lap. All three of us are sharing the seat outside.
Panic swirls in my gut. I don’t want Troy to have any memory of yesterday. There’s no need to remind him of this.
“Ducks were playing hockey with footballs.”
“What?” Suttons laughs. “Ducks can’t play hockey.”
“Purple bears were also playing.”
Troy’s face is happy, hair sticking out every which way.
“You’re right. These are funny dreams.” I tickle him and his laughter rings out, bright and happy. Yeah, he’s okay.
“I’m hungry, Daddy. Can we have pancakes for breakfast?”
“Would you settle for donuts?”
Troy spins in my arms. My parents are standing in the doorway with a bright pink box in their hands.
“Grandma. Grandpa.”
Wiggling out of my arms, Troy runs over and wraps his arms around their legs.
“What are you guys doing here?”
Sutton and I both stand and walk over to them.
“We figured donuts were called for today. And we brought some guests too.”
Walking inside, Sutton’s mom and Lydia are already in the kitchen. Troy runs in and climbs onto the chair next to her.
“Can they read our minds?” Sutton asks. “It’s like they knew we were going to get donuts and brought them over.”
“I guess it’s a parent’s superpower. One less thing to worry about.”
“For now.” After I drop one more kiss on her lips, we head inside with the rest of the family. Lydia and Troy are sitting at the table with a donut in front of each of them and a bowl of fruit.
“Thanks for not making breakfast all sugar.” I drop a kiss on my mom’s cheek as I grab a few more cups of coffee.
“I’ve raised children. I know how this is done.”
“How are you, son?” Dad asks, taking a cup of coffee from me.
“Still reeling.”
