“Quinn lets me be the pink Power Ranger even when he wants to be.”
Quinn’s eyes went wide as he looked at his brothers. He hurried to clarify. “I don’t ever want to be the pink one.”
Grace continued. “And he pushes me on the swing really high. And he always checks for monsters under my bed.”
A soft, collective “Aww” rippled from the older kids. Kyle even patted Quinn on the back, and my littlest boy beamed.
I squeezed Grace. “Good job, baby. Quinn, your turn.”
He smoothed his paper on the table and rattled off his three things at lightning speed. “Grace gives the best hugs. She shares her animal crackers with me. And… and she cried when I fell off my bike last week.” He glanced at his little sister, a flicker of real affection breaking through. “That was nice.”
My heart swelled. Small, honest moments like this were why I’d had Grace and Quinn so many years after the first four. I’d thought I was done, but when Jake and Kyle started school, the house got… quiet. Too quiet. And I was reminded of how fast childhood slips away.
“Great job, sweetheart,” I said, voice catching a little. “Okay. Jake and Kyle, you’re up.”
They both squirmed. Feelings weren’t their strong suit.
Kyle went first, pretending boredom but stealing glances at his brother. “One, you’re good at everything—guitar, skating, school, people just like you. Two, you spent a whole year teaching me to ollie before I got it. Three… you took the blame when I broke Dad’s favorite mug. Said, ‘You’re my little brother. I’ll always have your back.’”
Jake stared, bravado gone for a second. Then he smacked Kyle’s arm. “That story’s gotten way better with age.”
I sighed. Close enough.
“Okay,” Jake said, tapping his pencil like it hurt to be earnest. “One, you’re funny—I’ve literally pissed my pants laughing.Two, you’re actually good at guitar; I was just being a dick earlier. Three…” His voice dipped. “You’re loyal. You’d never leave me hanging.”
The hostility between them softened into something like a truce. Mission accomplished.
“My turn,” Emma said, eyes on paper. “Keith, you’re weirdly confident. I’ve watched you talk your way out of detention like it was a customer service misunderstanding. You’re generous. Like, you routinely give away stuff you actually need. Shoes, jacket, your last burrito.”
Keith nodded. “The burrito was a mistake.”
Emma laughed. “And last one. You always walk on the outside of the sidewalk. It makes me feel protected. Very old-school.”
“Thank you, Emma. And you’re welcome.” Keith leaned back in his chair. “I don’t do sincere out loud, but I wrote something for you. Read it alone. Then burn it.” He slid her a folded note. “For now, three superficial things I like about you. You have good snacks, and you hide them in the same spot every time. You dress cool enough, I don’t have to lie about you being my sister. And you’re the only sibling tough enough to keep me alive during an apocalypse.”
Not quite the heartfelt answers I’d hoped for, but so perfectly Keith that I let it go.
“Let’s be real,” Jake said. “Keith was always going to fail the assignment.”
Quinn stood. “Can we go now?”
“Yes,” I said, setting Grace on the floor as I got up. “Just one more thing.”
I opened my arms. “Group hug.”
The kids crowded in, and for a moment I remembered every version of them I’d ever held. The sun on the patio felt good, but it had nothing on this.
The kitchen door opened.
Scott stepped inside wearing a pleasant expression, still wet from the ocean waves. He froze mid-step, his smile fading as he took in the sight of his entire family… getting along.
“Sorry,” he said, slowly backing out the way he came. “Wrong house.”
The door clapped shut behind him.
Scott reenteredafter the kids had already scattered.
Shaking out his hair, he eyed me, grinning. “I’m not even gonna ask what happened here.”
