Page 325 of What We Brave
"Six if we're lucky."
"I can't wait."
I watch from the window as they walk down the path to the cottage. Porch light on. Smoke from the chimney.
Home. They're finally home.
The house is quiet.
Reid's loading the last dishes into the dishwasher. Blake's in the living room unplugging the tree, checking that everything's ready for morning.
I stand in the doorway, watching them.
My partners. The fathers of my children. The two people who, for reasons I still don't fully understand, looked at my chaos and said "yes, we want the woman who used to keep her passport in her purse just in case."
Just in case of what? I never had a good answer. Just in case I needed to run. Just in case this wasn't real. Just in case I woke up one day and realized I'd made a terrible mistake.
My passport is in a filing cabinet now. I had to dig for it last year when we took the kids to Canada.
Reid catches me staring. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Better than okay."
Blake comes up behind me. Arms around my waist, chin hooked over my shoulder. "Kids down?"
"All three."
"Parents?"
"Cottage."
He exhales. I feel the tension drain out of him—eight months of tension, finally releasing.
"You did good," I tell him. "So good."
"We did good."
Reid dries his hands and comes to join us. Pressed against my front while Blake holds me from behind.
Sandwiched. Surrounded. Safe.
Sometimes I look at the three of us and think:where is the actual adult?There should be someone supervising this. Someone with a plan. Someone who knows what they're doing.
Then I remember we're the someones.
Terrifying. And also kind of amazing. Because it turns out, between the three of us, we can totally grown-up this. Our kids are darn lucky to have us.
"Bed?" Blake's voice is low against my ear.
"God yes," Reid says. "Been awake since six."
"Whose fault is that?" I ask.
"Yours. Both of yours."
We turn off the lights and head for the stairs. Blake's hand is on my lower back, guiding. Possessive in a way that still makes my pulse kick up after seven years.
We reach the hallway and Blake's grip tightens. Stops me.
