“Siah, I made lunch.” Sam came bouncing into the nursery, her Reading is my Super Power apron tied in the front. She’d come so far in the last year, from not feeling good about her intelligence to boasting about her reading skills. I was thrilled at how the world opened up to her once she connected with the right school.

“As soon as Zander is done with his, I’ll be down.” Zander had decided that the twenty minutes a side rule was far too short for him, and I had spent the past hour in the gliding rocker as he ate greedily. The nurse said he was about to have a growth spurt. “When did you start cooking anyway?”

I’d seen the apron in the kitchen and had assumed it was just for show because of the words written on it. Sam was fascinated with many things, but cooking had never been one of them unless it involved frosting, and then she was all over it, hoping to get to lick the bowl clean.

“Bella’s dad says that cooking is talking with heart. He says it is one of the best ways to say I love you.” She was bouncing on her tippy toes. Over the summer, Bella and Sam were able to attend the same art camp and had grown to be the best of friends. From what little time I’d spent with her father, he seemed like a great guy, and he was raising Bella on his own. That could not be easy.

“And how did you say you love me today?” I sang, something that Zander seemed to enjoy and had quickly became a habit.

“With fresh mozzarella on a ciabatta roll with tomatoes, mayonnaise, and basil.”

“Fancy.”

“Wait until you see the dessert.” She skipped out of the room to tell everyone Zander was eating so they better not touch a thing. Given it was Dusty’s favorite bread, I had a feeling her warning came a little too late.

“Are you almost done, little man? Da is getting hungry.” He kept sucking away without a care in the world. I was taking it as a no.

I slowed my rocking pace, bringing my feet off the ottoman and onto the floor. He had to be almost done and I truly was ravenous, so a little motion would either remind him there were better things to pay attention to or he’d continue his dining. Either way, I’d get to the kitchen in time for what sounded like a delicious meal.

I pulled up the sides of my baby wrap one shoulder at a time, nestling him in close before wrapping it around my middle and fastened it securely. The first week I’d been home, that thing was worse than those puzzles they make out of horseshoes. Now, just over a week later, I was able to get him all nice and cozy in no time flat.

The sound of laughter filled my ears as I made my way into the hallway and toward the kitchen. It was a common sound in the house, and one I cherished. It was going to be sad when Richard went back to work. Having him home with us all since the baby came had been a little slice of chocolate cake.

“Siah, Zander asleep?” Sam called as she pulled out a chair for me. She was going all-in on this little chef thing.

“Nah, but I’m hungry, too, and I heard we had a fancy lunch.” The puppy almost tripped me as he tried to get my attention. “You go sit or roll over or something,”“ I scolded playfully.

“Sam told us to wait too late.” Dusty eyed his half-eaten sandwich, his plate void of the cheese puffs that adorned the others’.

“I see that.” I picked up the glass of iced tea at my place and took a long drink from the oversized straw. Sam had been sure I would spill my tea or coffee on Zander and had somehow convinced the guys I needed to drink only cold things when I was wearing him. She may have mentioned all the stains on my paternity shirts as proof, but whatevs. I surprisingly took to it though, and iced tea had become my beverage of choice.

“I waited.” Richard puffed out his chest as if wanting a cookie.

“As did I,” I sassed back, bringing up the sandwich for a first bite. It was a sandwich, nothing amazing about it, but I mmmmed as I chewed as if it were the best thing I ever tasted.

“Told you he’d love it.”

“You were right. My idea of tacos was not up to par.” Dusty popped the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth.

“I would’ve been happy with toast and cream cheese, Sam. Just you wanting to help makes me over the moon happy.” Before cream cheese skyrocketed in price and lost its place in the dollar store, cream cheese on toast had been a staple in our house. Some days we even put olives on it, for a special treat. We didn’t have to worry about money in that same way anymore, but I still held onto those memories. Where you come from grounded you.

“So next time you want cream cheese?” She looked at me perplexed.

“Next time I want whatever you want to create.” Because Sam making lunch meant I didn’t have to, and while Zander did sleep more than he was awake, the little fella took up most all of my time, something I hoped Sam understood and didn’t get jealous about.

Of course, she got two pets and two dads out of the deal, along with a bedroom fit for a queen, so she was probably aces.

“Don’t say that, little one.” Richard’s voice became far too serious for the conversation. “Yesterday she made me a peanut butter and mustard sandwich.”

I smiled brightly as memories from my childhood rushed back to me.

“Mom used to make those. They’re yummy. Did you even try it?” I scolded. There had been a time when the schools had decided sugar was bad and banned sugar-added products from our lunches. It was short-lived when parents banned together and told them to cut the crap, but for that brief time, my mom experimented with all kinds of crazy concoctions, one of them being peanut butter and mustard. It had been my favorite, and something I still ate when I got a hankering.

“I made him follow the three-bite rule,” Sam pronounced with pride. I loved that she could go toe-to-toe with Richard while still being respectful. It was good for him. “Please tell me I never made faces like he did.”

“I think I need to see an example to know for sure.” I gave him the I dare you eye and he just shrugged.

Dusty however, was up for the challenge, instantly making faces of displeasure, one after another.

“Yeah.” I laughed. “You totally made those faces, Sam.” She had, and worse. She pretty much only liked one food during her threes—toast—and toast, a complete meal did not make.

“I can’t believe I was as bratty as Duddy.” She went back to her sandwich, looking over the edge of the table often. Dimes to dollars, her puppy was begging at her food for either scraps or loves. The furball was a whore for both.

“Very few people are,” Dusty conceded knowing right well he was in that category of very few people.

“I gotta take the dog out.” Sam jumped out of her chair with urgency. I had to give it to her, she had really stepped up with the whole dog thing. “Don’t let Giggles on the table. He keeps trying to eat my food.”

And clothing and house plants and shoe laces, the list went on and on. You would think being blind, he’d stay out of trouble, but he had a sixth sense when it came to finding things to chew on that were not his.

Sam grabbed the leash off the back door and managed to connect it to the pup’s harness, which was a feat in and of itself, before taking him outside. One of the nicest things about our home was that the kitchen overlooked a huge fenced-in backyard so Sam could feel all independent while we could keep our paranoid control-freak parental urges in check. It was a win-win.

“Cats are shitheads. I told you so.” True to form, Giggles found the one human not loving him, me, and stayed glued to my side at least half the day. The only time he seemed to ignore me was when I was feeding Zander.

“But a cute little shithead.” Dusty spoke in his baby voice that he only reserved for the cat, which was good. If he started that with Zander I was going to need to lay down the law. The reason Sam spoke like a little adult most of the time was that I never talked down to her. Baby talk was not going to happen on my watch unless it was directed at a furbaby.

“Fair point.” Zander broke his latch. Finally. He’d been eating forever. Not that I’d ever begrudge the gift I had in feeding him, but when he ate so long, I got paranoid he wasn’t getting enough. Which both Kai and the nurses told me wasn’t a thing as long as there were wet diapers, and whoa nelly there were wet diapers, but a Da can’t help but worry.

“Are you all done, little man?” I wormed him out of the wrap.

“Pass him to me.” Richard held out his hands. No one looking in on our family would ever have guessed that Richard had been the one holding back on the decision to have a child with Dusty. Not that I wasn’t glad. Had he been all full steam ahead, we wouldn’t be where we were, the three of us with our new perfect son and my ever-amazing kid sister.

“He needs to be burped,” I directed Richard, handing Zander to him.

“I can handle a little burping.” He spoke directly to Zander as he settled him near his shoulder. “I went to college, after all.”

“What do you mean?” I blurted before it clicked that he wasn’t implying it was an educational understanding of the power of a good burp he was referring to. I’d blame it on my postpartum hormone swings, but truth was I’d always been a little touchy about my lack of education.

“Frat boys. Beer. Burping the alphabet. All that stuff.” He patted the baby’s back. He was so afraid of hurting our son that his pats weren’t going to accomplish a thing, but I planned to let him figure that out on his own. Correcting his every move wasn’t going to accomplish a single thing.

“Oh, I thought you… never mind I’m still postpartum.” I grabbed a huge bite of my sandwich since food had apparently been the only thing keeping me from running my mouth at the moment.

“No, not never mind.” Dusty reached over, settling his hand on my arm. “Tell us what’s on your mind, pumpkin.”

This was not a conversation I wanted to be happening right now, not when everything else was flowing so smoothly. But I had opened my mouth...

“I never went finished college.” They knew this and never once indicated it changed how they felt about me in the slightest, not that that stopped me from blushing at my admission. “I wanted to, you know, to be a nurse... but then the accident happened, and you know the rest.”

Richard was still patting the baby’s back with little success. Dusty held out his arms and Richard reluctantly handed the little guy over, always hating to give up his papa time. Dusty made quick work of getting an award-winning burp out of him using the hold his chin while he sits on your lap method Kai swore was the best before handing him back to Richard with a smug look on his face. To his credit, Dusty said not one word.

“Do you want to go now?” Dusty asked breaking the silence, well silence save burpage that had filled the room.

“Now? No. But someday.” I shrugged as I caught sight of Sam out of the corner of my eye running with her dog. Technically, I guess it was Zander’s, but I had a feeling the dog had already chosen his owner long before he met our new addition.

“Still want to be a nurse?” Richard asked the very question I’d been asking myself for a while now. Part of the reason I was drawn to nursing had been to help people, and as a kid fresh outta high school when I was picking careers, I thought that meant teacher or nurse. Now I saw the world as a much bigger place than I did back then, and the options open to me that still achieved the same goal of helping people were vast.

I’d been leaning more and more in the direction of helping new parents, still not completely sure what that would entail, although...

“I was thinking more along the lines of possibly becoming a doula. It still requires some course work, but not all the time away from you guys that nursing school does.” Technically, our state didn’t even certify doulas, but if I was going to want people to put their trust in me, there was no way in the world I’d do so without intense training. They deserved better.

“You want to be like Kai?” Dusty looked both shocked and a bit scared, causing Richard and I to crack up.

“Do the same job, but most definitely not be like Kai. He’s pretty much out there.” Crazy.

“This we know,” Richard agreed. He hadn’t gotten off on the best foot with my doula, but they had come to a mutual understanding of respect even if Richard thought Kai was completely off his rocker, which he most certainly was by almost every measure. He still was kick-ass at what he did though, so allowances were made.

“And, pumpkin, you know you don’t need to be a house omega. If you want to be a doula tomorrow, we’d make that happen. But if you want to stay home until you are a thousand, we are fine with that, too.”

Dusty always knew the best things to say, and right then and there he said exactly what I needed to hear.

“I’m happy being a house omega now, but at some point, I’m going to take you up on it.”

Before we could continue with our discussion, Sam came running back in, completely out of breath, her big-eared companion at her side.

“You didn’t let Giggles eat my food, right? You did. Look! Half my cheese poofs are gone. Nice and responsible, guys.”

Dusty slowly raised his hand. “Um, Sam, those might not have been eaten by a cat.”

“Really?” She placed little fists at her hips. “That was the last of the bag. Next time you take the last of your favorite ice cream, you can be sure I’m going to get it in my belly.”

She would, too, even if it was a year from now. It was hard not to crack a smile.

“Sounds fair to me,” he conceded, showing just how smart he was. There was absolutely no point in arguing with anyone after you have nibbled the last of their favorite snack. He’d been sly about it, too. I hadn’t even noticed.

“So you did stop Giggles?” She looked almost proud as she grabbed the second half of her sandwich as Dusty disappeared into the pantry before returning with a brand new bag of her cheese puffs. Of course he had a secret stash. Silly alpha.

“I’d like to take the credit, Princess,” Richard said. “But he never woke from his nap long enough to try to steal from your plate.”

“Cats sure sleep a lot,” she mumbled as she took another bite.

“Most of the day. They have the best life.” All the sleep they want and the pure attitude of don’t give a fucks. Brilliant creatures, even if they were asshats. Or more accurately because they were.

“Oh, look at you all tired and needing a nap and here we are keeping you up.” Dusty got up from the table, holding out his hand for me.

“I’m good,” I lied. I was bone-tired.

“No need to drain yourself when you have all this help around. Come, pumpkin, let’s get you a nap already.” This time I took his hand. A nap really did sound nice.

“Zander needs a new diaper.” It was a weak argument to be sure, but very accurate. Babies ate then peed or poohed. The going in must come out principle in action.

“I can handle that.” Richard stood, his son nestled in his arms.

“We’re using the new ones, not the ones from the hospital, Papa Rich. Those only clog the landfill.”

Watching Richard’s eyes bug out before he schooled himself at the realization the umbilical stub had fallen off and the cloth diapering had begun was a memory I wanted burned in my brain. It was so very un-Richard-like.

“I watched the tutorial.” He nodded once. “I should be good.”

“I can do it,” I offered. The diapers were easy once you did your first one, but the hybrids I’d picked out had some fastenings that were counterintuitive so a quick demonstration was probably for the best. I’d only started them the night before, and it still took me really thinking to get it right the first time over a half-dozen diapers in. That didn’t even include how to use the diaper sprayer without getting water and poop on the ceiling.

“Nonsense. You head to bed and I’ll take care of our little guy. Sam already claimed the dishes.” He winked at Sam as she stacked the compostable plates and then put my cup in the fridge.

“Clever girl.” Dusty gave her hair a ruffle, which she hated from all people other than him.

“Yippy skippy.” She grabbed the plates from the counter before placing them in our compost bucket to be taken out later.

“Fine, I’ll go up, but wake me when he’s hungry.”

Dusty began to pull my arm, trying to get me to walk with him to the room.

“Or I can give him one of the bottles you pumped.” Richard had to go and be all logical.

“Those are for emergencies,” I countered. I’d been trying to get at least a two-ounce bottle a day in the freezer after reading somewhere it was the way to go. But even as I said emergency, it sounded ludicrous. If there were a true emergency and he had to get a bit of formula, the world wouldn’t end, and he’d still grow up to be exactly who he was going to be anyways. And sleep sounded so good. Once I allowed the thought of a nap to cross my mind, I was fighting a losing battle.

“And you getting well rested is one.” Richard rationalized, not realizing he already won the battle.

“Wake me in a few hours?”

“Only if you are asleep by the time Richard figures out all those snaps.” Dusty tugged on my hand again and this time I followed.

“Hurry up.” He sounded more like a misbehaving child than a grown man trying to get me to take care of myself. The only time he was ever in that much of a hurry to get to the bedroom was for naked fun.

“What’s your hurry? You know the doctor said—” I blushed at even thinking about the doctor’s discussion of shutting down all bedroom time for far more weeks than I cared to remember. Not that I couldn’t take care of Dusty... and that was never a burden.

“Not that,” He stopped only long enough to kiss my cheek and whisper in my ear. “We need to get the video monitor turned on before he starts with the diaper change.”

“You don’t think he can do it?”

“Oh, he can, but I think it will be entertaining.”

Dusty was so very much not wrong on that one. Not only did Richard start off by taking pictures of the diaper that needed changing fastened properly for a sort of road map once it was off, but he then did so with every fastener he opened before setting the phone down for reference as he opened the diaper and took care of cleaning him up and putting the diaper in the wet bag. That was where things got, as Dusty put it, truly entertaining. As Richard snagged a new diaper, Zander decided he couldn’t wait for the diaper to take care of his needs and, needless to say, Richard got a little shower.

“We are so awful for watching this,” I said, even though I didn’t feel all that guilty.

“I’ll go help him and let you sleep, pumpkin. Love you.” He held open the covers, and I crawled inside as he tucked me in and kissed me chastely.

“Love you, too.” I had wanted to see how the men fared with the diaper fiasco, but my eyes drifted closed almost instantly, and it wasn’t until I was woken up for dinner, fully refreshed, that I opened them again.