“I wanna sleep with yoooou,” she wailed.
“We can sleep in your room, okay?”
The crying went up a notch. She wanted to be in her mom’s room. It was probably comforting for her.
Justin was trying to convince her to go with him back to her bed and she was crying and telling him no. The sobbing was hitting a crescendo. I got up.
I opened the door and popped out my head. He was holding her in the hallway, shushing her and rubbing her back. “Justin? Just bring her in,” I whispered.
He turned and his little sister blinked at me through tears. Then she outstretched her arms and reached, opening and closing her fists.
My heart melted.
I stepped into the hallway and took her. She put her head on my shoulder, drew a deep breath, let it out shakily, and immediately calmed down.
I stared at Justin over the little girl in my arms and he smiled.
We went back into his room and lay down with Chelsea between us. And he just gazed at me, head on the pillow, while his little sister fell back asleep.
An hour later, I was at breakfast, in my pajamas, in Justin’s kitchen, with his whole family.
Justin was at the stove, flipping slices of ham in butter and making waffles.
The waffle maker beeped, and he plucked out the finished product with a fork and plated it, sliding it in front of Chelsea.
I started cutting it into bite-size pieces while he grabbed the coffeepot and filled my mug. When he was done, he kissed me on the cheek and went back to the sink.
Nobody batted an eye when I came downstairs. I just folded into the chaos of the morning while the coffee brewed and the kids got ready for school and the dog got let out. And it made me wonder why I hadn’t just done this sooner.
I liked it.
I liked seeing this other side of him—this paternal version that signed permission slips and brushed a little girl’s hair into pigtails and made breakfast in slippers and a hoodie and pajama bottoms.
“Who wants orange juice?” Justin asked.
“I do,” Alex said.
Justin opened the fridge. “We’re out. I’ll check the garage.” He turned off his burner and left the kitchen.
Sarah was eyeing me from across the table. “We know you stay the night.”
I froze with my coffee cup halfway to my lips. “What?”
“We can hear you guys laughing.”
Alex was nodding, a huge grin on his face.
“We don’t care, you know. He’s happier when you’re here,” she said. “You should stay whenever you want.”
I was still blinking at them when Justin came back in with a carton of Tropicana. He set it on the table and went back to the stove.
“What’s for dinner?” Alex asked, opening the carton and pouring himself a glass.
Justin put the frying pan in the sink. “Uh, I was thinking chicken fried rice maybe? I don’t know. Emma, what do you want?”
I only paused for a second. “I like fried rice,” I said.
He turned around to smile at me.
Alex pounded his juice and shoved a forkful of ham into his mouth. “I gotta go to school,” he said, talking around it.
Sarah slung her backpack over her shoulder. “Can you dye my hair again?” she asked me. “Tonight when you come?”
“Sure.”
She smiled and left through the garage for the bus stop. I got up and started clearing plates.
Only Chelsea was still at the table, eating a piece of waffle and wiggling like she had to go to the bathroom.
“Chels, go potty,” Justin said.
His sister nodded and jumped from her chair and ran down the hall. I set the plates in the sink and as soon as my hands were free he grabbed me and pulled me into an embrace. “Alone, finally,” he said.
I laughed. “For the next five seconds.”
He tipped my chin up to kiss me but I pulled back. “You don’t think we should lay off the PDA in front of the kids?” I whispered.
“I don’t see any kids…” He smiled and leaned in but I stopped him again.
