Upon my arrival into the dining room, Dylan patted the seat next to him. “Hannah.”
As always, my chest burst with feeling as I walked over to join my stepson. Dylan adored his dad, and of course he loved his mum to bits, but I was pleased to have earned his love over the last few years and the coveted position of being the person he most wanted to sit beside at mealtimes. Just as I was about to sit down, Sophia decided she’d missed me in the last ten minutes and refused to sit anywhere but on my lap. It was clear she hadn’t realized that at four years old she was now much bigger than she was at two. But I didn’t mind. Mum had already warned me there would come a time when Sophia wouldn’t want to be seen with me, let alone sit on my lap, so I was determined to soak up her attention as much as possible.
The skin on my neck prickled and I knew my husband had entered the room. I looked over as he walked in with Adam, Adam holding Bray’s hand while Marco carried Jarrod.
Marco took his seat beside me, shooting me a look that promised retribution later for our moment upstairs. Jarrod immediately reached for a lock of Sophia’s hair, and she turned and tickled his neck in response, eliciting a giggle from him.
“Everyone ready to eat?” Mum asked the table, and as I glanced around at my family, I felt strangely emotional. I looked back at Marco, who seemed to sense it and was watching me carefully.
Like he always did. My feelings were a number-one priority to him, and he never let me forget it.
I thought of what he’d asked me upstairs.
“I am so sure,” I whispered, and my husband reached out his free hand to squeeze my knee under the table.
Olivia
It was too quiet. Much, much too quiet in the house.
I was snuggled up on a huge armchair in the snug sitting room (the smaller of our two sitting rooms), where I was reading a book by an author Grace worked with. I got to a steamy part that made me flush and looked over at my gorgeous husband, who was lying on the couch reading a graphic novel (because he’d never stopped being a big kid).
My intention was to jump him when the thought occurred to me that either one of our girls might come running in and interrupt us. That’s when I realized the house was much, much too quiet.
“Where are the girls?” I said to Nate.
He turned his head on the fat cushion he was resting against and peered at me over the glasses he now had to wear. He hated them. I thought they made him look adorable. Which was exactly why he hated them. “I thought they were in the living room watching a film.”
“And that usually comes with singing or dancing or squealing of some sort.” I got up off of the chair, leaving my book in my place. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
“Baby, can you get me a coffee while you’re up?”
“Your lack of concern is wonderful.” I rolled my eyes at him and disappeared out of the room.
What I found in the living room made me draw to a stop with a small gasp.
Playing on the large television screen Nate had mounted on our wall above the fireplace was our wedding DVD.
Lily and January sat on the couch, quiet as mice as they watched their mom and dad dance at their reception.
I stared at the image, too, at the way that Nate held me close and gazed into my eyes like no one else was in the room with us.
Clearly the girls were mesmerized by this, watching it as if they were watching a Disney Princess movie.
I felt heat at my back seconds before arms slid around my waist and drew me back against a hard chest. I relaxed against Nate, covering his arms with my own. He nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear, “Good movie choice.”
I grinned. “I haven’t watched it in ages,” I whispered back.
Lily turned, having heard us. She wore a look of apology. “Oh. We just found it.”
January glanced over her shoulder at us. “Mummy, your dress is so pretty.”
“Do you still have it?” Lily asked, eyes bright just at the thought of getting to wear it.
“I do. I’ll show it to you, but you have to be really careful with it, okay?”
They nodded solemnly, my two little angels.
“Daddy, you’re wearing a kilt there!” Lily giggled.
“I am wearing a kilt,” he acknowledged as he shuffled me forward as if I were his puppet, making the girls giggle harder.
“Did you like wearing a kilt?”
He squeezed me harder. “I don’t know. Did I like wearing a kilt?”
I shook my head. “You complained about it the whole day.”
Lily paused the DVD and turned around on the couch to face us. Like always, January did what her big sister did. “Would you rather wear a kilt or a nappy?” She grinned like she’d thought of the funniest thing ever.
I shook with laughter, wondering if Nate regretted introducing our “would you rather” conversations to our children.
“Hmm.” He actually pretended to ponder it. “I think I’d rather wear a kilt.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s warmer and less humiliating.”