“Daddy, can I taste your pisketti sauce?”
“Sure thing, Reagan.”
“Daddy, can Ralph have some pisketti sauce too?”
“No, baby girl. Puppies can’t have people food.”
“Why?”
“It’ll hurt their tummies.”
“Daddy, is Mommy gonna eat wif us?”
“Mommy needs to rest so she can feel better.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, Reagan?”
“I love you.”
Damn.I’d never get tired of hearing those words.
“I love you too. Now why don’t you go watch TV with your brother while I finish dinner.”
“Okay.”
She hopped off the stool, shuffling her slipper-clad feet across the floor. They were the same fuzzy pink bunny ones she had on the first night we met.
Shortly after my team left, I carried Sloane up to our bed under protest. She’d wanted to wait for the kids to get home, but she was fading fast. I tucked her under the covers, kissed her forehead, and made her promise to stay put. Her eyes were closed before I even left the room. Between not feeling well and her worry about my upcoming mission, she was drowning in exhaustion.
“How much longer, Dad? I’m starbing.”
“Ten minutes, Ro,” I answered my son while I stirred the homemade sauce.
It was my first time taking care of them completely on my own. I was their father, how hard could it be? Damn hard, as it turned out. What a fool I was to think otherwise. They went back and forth for ten minutes trying to figure out what to have for dinner. Reagan wanted cheeseburgers while Rogan insisted on pizza. Halfway through, they flipped the script entirely, begging for chicken nuggets and french fries. Problem was, I didn’t have anything they’d asked for in my house.
After a painfully expensive trip to the grocery store, where the shopping cart somehow ended up filled to the brim with more stuff than we’d come for, we returned home only for them to change their minds again. Spaghetti was now the choice du jour. Guess what we didn’t buy at the store? Luckily, I found noodles and tomato sauce in the cabinet and meatballs in the freezer.
Dinner commenced without further complications. Bedtime, however, was an exercise in patience. Without Sloane to be the voice of reason, my kids took advantage of the fact I couldn’t say no to them. Every book they wanted me to read, I read without hesitation, silly voices and all. Reagan asked for Ralph to sleep in her bed. No problem. I tucked them both in. Rogan wanted to show me the pictures he’d taken with the camera I bought him. Sure thing. I scrolled through each one twice.They had me wrapped around all twenty of their perfect little fingers. Hell, if they’d asked for the moon, I would’ve found a way to gift wrap it.
By the time they actually fell asleep, I had just enough time to peek in on Sloane before I had to call Waverly to bring her up to speed. The door to the bathroom was pulled shut when I snuck into our bedroom, and my girl wasn’t fast asleep like I’d expected. She came out a couple of minuteslater, completely unaware of her surroundings. Her hand flew to her chest and she let out a tiny squeak of surprise when she noticed me sitting at the foot of the bed.
“Lord have mercy, you scared me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Closing the distance between us, I drew her into my chest and never wanted to let go. She soothed the jagged edges of my soul with her light. After the accident, I refused to even consider letting another woman into my heart. It wouldn’t have been fair to her or me. There wasn’t a chance in hell anyone would be able to replace my Sunshine, so I didn’t even try. Seeing her so sick and lifeless this morning brought up all of those old feelings. It scared the fuck out of me to think I could lose her again so soon after getting her back. Was I being irrational? Absolutely, but I couldn’t help it. She and the twins were everything to me. Without them, I was an empty shell.
“Come on.” I took her hand. “Let’s get you back in bed.”
“What’s the point? I’m just going to have to pee again in five minutes. Between the IVs at the hospital and the seven thousand bottles of water you insisted I drink, my bladder feels like it’s floating down a river.”
“That’s better than the alternative, don’t you think?”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She crawled under the covers. “I’m just mad at myself for letting this happen.”
The call to Waverly could wait a little while longer. Climbing in beside her, I lay on my side with my head propped in my hand. Sloane mirrored my position, except her head was on a pillow. My fingers combed through her long brown locks, stopping to toy with the ends.