Page 85 of The Man in the Cottage

"You can be both."

Avery reaches for a pancake from the stack I've been building. I swat his hand away gently.

"Wait for syrup."

"But Mama—"

"Wait."

He pouts, looking so much like Travis that I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Travis catches my eye and grins. He sees it too.

"Okay, buddy, come on." Travis lifts Avery off the counter and settles him back in his chair. "Let's eat breakfast like civilized people."

"What's civilized?"

"It means we use forks."

"Oh."

We eat together, the three of us, morning light streaming through the windows. The kitchen looks different than it did four years ago—we painted the cabinets, replaced the counters, updated the appliances—but it still feels like my grandmother's house. We kept all her photos on the walls. We kept the snow globe from Niagara Falls on the mantel. We kept the spirit of the place, even as we made it ours.

That was important to me. To us.

After breakfast, Travis gets ready for practice while I clean up and get Avery dressed. There's a complicated negotiation about which shoes he wants to wear, which ends with him in rain boots covered in dinosaurs even though there's not a cloud in the sky. Battles worth fighting and all that.

"I'll be back around three," Travis says, grabbing his bag from the hook by the door. "Dinner tonight to celebrate?"

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. Maria already has a table reserved." He kisses my forehead, then bends down to kiss Avery's. "Be good, buddy."

"I'm always good."

"We've discussed this."

Travis heads out, and I watch him through the window as he gets in his truck and pulls out of the driveway. Four years of marriage, three and a half years of Avery, and I still feel something in my chest every time I see him. Not butterflies—it's steadier than that. More like gravity. A force that keeps me grounded, that reminds me where I belong.

Avery tugs on my hand. "Mama. Play trucks."

"Okay. But then we have to go to the bookstore."

"Why?"

"Because Mama's book is coming out today, and we have to go see it."

"Can I have a book?"

"You can have any book you want."

"Trucks book?"

"If they have a trucks book, yes."

He cheers, which means running in circles around the living room making engine noises. I let him burn off some energy while I check my phone. Texts from Nicole (SO PROUD OF YOU), from Brit (just pre-ordered three copies!!!), from my mom (Call me when you have a minute, I want to hear your voice). A message from my editor confirming the schedule for today's virtual events.

And a text from Travis, sent thirty seconds ago: You've got this. I love you.

I type back: I love you too.