The apartment fire was a catastrophe for six families, but at least no one got hurt. By the time I got there the building was a blackened shell, the roof nearly collapsed, with most of the flames already suppressed by a steady, powerful stream of water supplied by three responding fire companies. I hung around long enough to establish nobody needed relief, then packed my gear to return home, none the worse for wear.

Just as I was leaving, the Red Cross arrived to provide emergency assistance to the six families left homeless by the blaze. I hope they all had insurance.

The scene plays over and over in my mind as I pull up into the driveway that leads to my house. It occurs to me—for the first time, I think—that Jack is here, with my family, and there’s so much we haven’t talked about. And he’s so good to me. Beyond what any one man can expect.

I sigh. I was never ready for any of this, but life doesn’t give you fair warning about these things. When I walk inside, I smell home-cooked food and see Jack sitting with all three kids at the dinner table. There’s a meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and roasted green beans. And surprisingly enough, both Chrissy and Joey are eating it. I even see Joey smile as he eats—and Jordan laughs at something Jack says.

I smile and stroll into the kitchen and grab a plate. When I turn back towards the table, everyone stops talking, turning to me as if I’ve just barged in on a secret discussion. The kids are all wearing troubled faces, and even Jack appears exasperated.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I’ll fix you a plate,” Jack says, getting up and taking the plate from my hand. “Have a seat.”

Something’s odd. I wash my hands at the sink, then take a seat at the table, with Jordan, Chrissy, and Joey watching me like a hawk.

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on,” I ask. “Or do I have to guess?”

“We had a visitor today,” Jack says, laying a plate of eggplant lasagna in front of me. “Grandpa Schmidt.”

What? I need to play this close to the cuff in front of the kids.

“What did he want?” I ask, forking my meatloaf nonchalantly, as if I haven’t a care in the world.

Henry Schmidt is a mean-spirited, criminally inclined hypocrite of the worst order. He makes a living conning the sick, the old, and the ignorant, out of their hard-earned money, selling salvation by way of biblical misinterpretation, all while beating his wife, terrorizing his detractors, and helping himself to anything that isn’t nailed down. He managed to raise two sons, rearing them into his criminal lifestyle, turning them into half-witted bullies along the way. They’re both in jail now.

“He wants us to go live with him,” Chrissy says, staring at me, unblinking. “He’s coming back for us. He was mad you went to court.”

He can be as mad as he wants to be. That doesn’t change what the judge said.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I promise Chrissy. “This is your home now. The judge said so.”

“I don’t want to go back to Grandpa’s,” Jordan says, his eyes bearing a haunted look I’ve come to know all too well. “He took me and Joey to his cabin and made us watch while he gutted a deer. He made me help. I got blood all over me. He thought it was funny when Joey started crying.”

My stomach turns. I bet he did, the callous bastard.

“Put it out of your heads, kids,” I say firmly. “I’m taking care of you. I’m keeping you. And you won’t need to see any member of your family that you don’t want to see. Do you understand?”

Joey nods slowly, and Chrissy looks down at her plate. Jordan sits at his chair, arms crossed, his eyes hooded with fear and anxiety.

“Jordan, Chrissy,” I say. They both look at me. “I want all of you to know that I love you, and I’m not going to let anyone take you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Chrissy says.

Jordan just keeps looking at me and then starts eating the rest of his dinner. I’ll take that as a ‘maybe’ from him.

“Jack,” I say, grabbing his hand under the table, “The meatloaf is great. I was starving. So, you guys want to hear about the fire? It was big!”

We manage to make it through dinner without returning to the topic of the kid’s grandfather, but I can tell it’s weighing heavy on all their minds. Jack’s on edge too, so as soon as the kids have cleared out to go watch television or play in their rooms, I distract him from the dishes so we can talk.

“Leave that. Come sit down,” I say. “Tell me what happened with Schmidt.”

He looks pained, like he’d rather do anything except talk about it.

“He had some choice words,” Jack says. “Along with an unpleasant manner of delivering them. He pissed me off, but mostly, he scared the kids. I spent all afternoon trying to convince them they’re safe, but I think they know I can’t do a damn thing.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do a damn thing?” I ask.

Jack hauls in a deep breath, exhaling a sigh. “I mean if that guy comes back, and you’re not here, and he’s got some bullshit court order and a deputy, I have no standing. It means I can’t do a damn thing. And that’s probably just as it should be because I’m nobody to them—not legally. They’re starting to trust me, to need me, but all that could just blow up in an instant if you decide to move on.”

“Move on?” I ask, feeling the doubt in his words so keenly it jabs me right in the heart. “Are you seriously worried about that?”

“I think I should be,” Jacks replies. “If not for myself, then for the kids. They’re getting attached. They need stability. Jordan said it today, I’m ‘just the boyfriend, just like all the others.’”

“Jack, that’s crazy,” I say. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Do I? Because I don’t exactly remember you telling me.”

I sigh and put my head in my hands. “I want to be with you. I want you here, with me and the kids. I care about you enormously—”

He wraps his hands around his water glass. “I know, but we don’t really… we don’t quite act like a real family. I go back to my sister’s place a lot of nights. I pick the kids up when I’m not working. I cook dinner when I can and read some bedtime stories, but… You know, it feels like I’m just helping out, not really part of this.”

“Is that how you feel?” I ask. “Like you’re not part of this?”

“Sometimes,” he admits.

That’s bullshit. He’s been in this since the very beginning. He’s better with the kids than I am.

“Do you want to be part of this?” I ask, emotion rising in my throat, feeling it tighten. “Because I want you to part of this. I want you to be all in.”

Jack’s jaw clenches, his breath catches. “I want to be, but I don’t know if there’s room for me. And I don’t want to rush you when you’re not ready.”

I shake my head, almost laughing through threatening tears. “You’re more insecure than the last girl I dated when I was sixteen, trying to convince myself I was straight.” I reach out, placing my hand over Jack’s.

Jack gives me a look and goes to clear the table, silently. I watch him, and finally he turns, looking me in the eye. “It’s not insecure to wonder about a guy who doesn’t make anything clear—ever.”

“No—no. I guess it’s not,” I say. “That’s fair. With the kids coming into my life, a lot of the things I meant to say got put on hold.”

“Like what?” he asks, hands on his hips.

“I love you,” I say, getting up and pulling Jack into my arms. I kiss him, and he gives me a shocked look. “Maybe I haven’t made it plain enough. Let me make it plain.”

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he lets me take his hand and lead him into the living room where Chrissy and Joey are doing homework. The kids look up at me when we enter the room.

“Chrissy, go get Jordan. I want the three of you in here. I need to tell you all something.”

I sit down, pulling Jack next to me on the sofa. Joey crawls in my lap while we wait for Chrissy and Jordan to appear. Jack just keeps looking at me, surprise and curiosity written all over his face. Jordan mopes in ahead of his sister, his expression bored and a bit annoyed with the intrusion on his time. Chrissy gathers herself in a chair beside Jack, folding her hands in front of her. She’s so proper, so attentive, but she doesn’t let me get away with any bullshit. She’s going to make an excellent CEO one day.

“I need to make something really clear,” I begin, settling my eyes on Jordan first. “I don’t know exactly what you think about me and Jack, and where he fits into this family thing we’ve got now, so I just want to make sure you know exactly how it is.”

Jordan rolls his eyes.

“You can cut out the eye rolls right now, young man,” I say sharply. “Listen to me. That’s disrespectful, and I won’t have it. Do you understand me?”

He sets his jaw firmly, nodding.

“Speak up,” I urge him.

“I understand,” he says.

“Okay,” I continue. “And you, all three of you, need to understand this. Jack and I love each other. We’re both here for you. We’re both determined to take care of you. And… the best way we can do that is if Jack moves in with us. Officially.”

I turn my gaze to Jack. He’s surprised, but there’s an almost imperceptible smile growing on his face.

“Do you guys think that would be a good idea?”

“Yay!” Joey shouts, clapping his hands, smiling. “Great idea!”

“How about you, Chrissy?” I ask.

She nods, smiling a little. “I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “As long as you guys don’t fight.”

I grin at her. Jack smiles. “We might sometimes,” I admit. “But probably not like you think. We’ll argue about what to eat or what color shirt to wear, and Jack will always get his way, because he’s better at almost everything than I am, and I’m smart enough to know it.”

Chrissy smiles again, glancing sideways at Jack. “He’s alright.”

“Is it okay with you, Jordan?” I ask, hoping we have his approval, but not expecting smiles.

Jordan shrugs. “You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do. That’s what grown-ups do. I don’t know why you’re asking.”

“I’m asking because you’re a member of this family. Your opinion and your concerns matter. If you have concerns, I want to hear them, so we can talk about them.”

He regards me with curious suspicion. “Mom had plenty of boyfriends,” he says. “They came and went. Some were jerks, and some were okay, and some were scary as shit. As boyfriends go, Jack’s okay. But Mom never kept a boyfriend very long and you and Jack haven’t been together very long. Nobody wants to be a dad to us who doesn’t have to be, not even our own dad. That’s why boyfriends don’t stick around. Jack won’t stick around either. He’ll figure out we’re a pain in the ass and he’s got better things to do.”

“That’s not true,” Jack says, his tone pained. “You are a pain in the ass sometimes and so am I. And so is Dillon.”

Chrissy and Joey laugh, and Joey leans back, resting his soft hair against my shoulder. He smells clean and fresh, a scent that wholly belongs to a kid, something promising and beautiful. Something I didn’t realize I’d been missing for so many years. I take Jack’s hand in mind.

“But when people love each other, for real,” I say, looking over at Jack, “They stick around.”

Jack smiles. “You can count on me.”

Jordan shrugs again. “Whatever,” he says, digging in to his doubts, which clearly have far less to do with Jack than with himself. Nobody’s ever stuck around for him. It strikes me that maybe he believes that it’s his fault that none of the guys in his life have really stuck around.

“When are you moving in?” Joey asks, ignoring Jordan’s attitude. “And can we get a kitten after you move in? Please?”

A kitten? What? Where did that come from?

Jack smiles. “I guess I could probably get moved this weekend,” he says. “And then we’ll see about the kitten. That may require another family meeting.”

“I love you,” I tell him again after the kids are back in their respective places, each of them engrossed in post-homework screen time. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that before.”

“I can forgive that. Maybe.”

He leans against my shoulder for a while, and we’re just quiet, watching the kids.

I love this man. It wasn’t forceful and overpowering like it was with Gil. It’s solid and steady and real—and so, so much better than anything I’ve ever known.

I can only hope that he actually feels the same way.