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“When did Jens get so…big? He always needed me to lift him off the swing, help him up the ladder.” I groaned. “Now he’s hanging upside down on the monkey bars. By himself.”
Magnolia rubbed my back. “He’s growing up too fast. I know. He wants to go to school. Be a big boy.”
“I’m not ready.”
She laughed. “You never will be.”
“At least Ciara will grow slower.”
“In your dreams.” My wife laughed, then sighed. “Maybe the next one.”
I sat back, slinging my arm over her shoulder. “It took us three years to get her. Not sure I can face being that old when another one comes.”
“Nine months in the future isn’t that long.”
It took a moment for her words to register. I turned to her, gaping. “Are you—really?”
She smiled. “Yep.”
I grabbed her, wrapping her in my arms and kissing her hard. “Maggie darling,” I breathed. “That is amazing!”
She laughed, nestling close. I held her, knowing she needed my embrace. The closeness. She always did in emotional moments, and I loved being the one to give it to her. It made me feel ten feet tall that it was me she turned to. I made her feel safe and secure.
“We need a bigger house.”
She laughed. “We have a big house.”
“Four bedrooms. We need five.”
“Or we can turn your office into a bedroom and build you an office downstairs.”
“We can afford a bigger place.”
“But I love our house. We picked it out together when Jensen was just a little nugget. We made it our home. I love the neighbors and the big trees and the gardens you made.”
I laughed, kissing her sweet, sentimental mouth. “Okay, how about the idea we had for a man shed out back? I can work there.”
She snorted. “And escape the kids.”
“It crossed my mind.”
She nudged me. “You’ll have to make it up.”
“Oh, baby, I will.”
Jensen came running over. “Mommy, I’m hungry.”
Magnolia dug in her bag, handing me a container. “Sit beside Daddy.”
I helped him onto the bench, opening the container. He dug in, munching on the crackers, and I unwrapped a string cheese for him.
“Did you see the paper this morning?” Magnolia asked casually.
I chuckled, brushing the hair off our son’s face. “About Terry? Yep. I figured karma would catch up to him. I hope he rots in jail.”
“Your, ah, mother must be horrified.”
I sat back, swinging my leg. “Don’t care.”
