They smile. “We missed you, dad. We always do,” Kyra says. Deacon nods, agreeing.
“I’m happy to hear that. If there’s ever a day you two don’t miss me, my little ‘ole heart won’t be able to take it,” I tease, my hand over my heart. They both roll their eyes and groan. But it’s true. It will break my heart in two if that ever happens. “Now. Anyone hungry? Because I’m absolutely starving after that drive,” I tell them, patting my empty belly.
“Me!” they say in unison.
“Good. I’m making my specialty.”
“Penne alla Vodka?” Kyra asks excitedly. “Or pancakes?”
“You and D can choose.”
“Pasta alla Vodka!” both chime in.
“Pasta it is,” I tell them, heading toward the kitchen.
While I’m making dinner, my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
Layla: Back in Chicago?
Gabe: Yep.
Layla: Busy?
Gabe: I’m making dinner for my kids.
Layla: Look at you. In dad mode already.
Gabe:
Layla: See you later?
Gabe: Absolutely. I’ll text you once they leave.
Layla:
Gabe:
“Who are you texting, dad?” Kyra asks as she glides into the kitchen.
Well, fuck. Do I tell her? I have to make a split decision…
I cough under my breath. “I, uh. I was texting Layla. My girlfriend.” I say, bracing for the fallout.
“Your girlfriend? No way, Dad! That’s awesome!” Kyra says excitedly. “Does mom know?”
“Not yet. But I plan to tell her soon.” Phew. That went over better than I expected.
“Hey, D! Dad has a girlfriend!” Kyra hollers to her brother, who’s sitting on the couch playing a video game.
“Good for him!” D jokes, totally uninterested.
With a sparkle in her eye, Kyra presses me about Layla. “So who is she? When did you meet her? Where does she live? What does she do?” Kyra asks excitedly, firing off question after question, just like an inquisition.
I smile, a tad amused. I was worried Kyra wouldn’t take it well, since I’m her dear old Dad. But, it turns out, she seems to be taking the news quite well. “One question at a time,” I joke, stirring the sauce.
Kyra waits patiently, genuinely interested.
“Okay. Um, I met Layla in Pittsburgh.”
