I hung back, watching Kelli pushing Ethan in the stroller, my dad walking along the sidewalk next to her, shaking my head in amazement. Everything seemed to have changed.

I wanted to enjoy this moment in Griffith Park together, forget everything else, but the ever-present work worries niggled at my brain. This attempted takeover. I wish I could put it in the back of my mind and not even think about it, not for today at least, but I couldn't get away from it.

No matter what was going on in my personal life, I couldn't—nor did I dare—let go of what was going on with my business. I didn't know who was behind Graphica's intention to acquire my company. I should have known better, not listened to Eric's advice to list my company on the stock exchange. But I’d caved because we did need the boost, and for a while it had played out in a positive way. Unfortunately, I had also opened the door to a takeover. I’d made my company a target. If they managed to purchase a majority stake, I'd be dead in the water.

A merger was one thing. An acquisition was one thing. The aggressive effort to take over my company – holdings, operations, and debts – was quite another. I'd had Eric and my financial department carefully watching the stock trades, making sure that we maintained the majority of stock buys. I was worried about what was called a dawn raid, where someone from the “enemy” side tried to buy a large number of shares as soon as the market opened.

It was stressful. More than stressful. The other company was playing dirty.

Well, if my management team and board of directors stayed alert, we could block the enemy. What we had to watch for now was another sneaky move – but I had one up my sleeve as well. If they wanted to play dirty, I could play dirty. I’d told Eric to let our shareholders know that for a brief time they could purchase additional shares at a discounted rate. The move was called a “poison pill.” I didn't like to stoop to such measures, but my company was at stake. This way, it would cost Graphica more money to attempt the takeover. Hopefully enough to discourage them.

They were pissed because when they broached an acquisition about ten months ago, having Eric bring the offer to me, I'd flat refused. We were doing well on our own. This was my brainchild and I wasn't about to just sell it off to the highest bidder. Eric had disagreed at first, but I brought him around to my way of thinking.

A gurgle from the stroller distracted me as I caught up to Kelli. Like a breath of fresh air after a smoggy day in SoCal, I felt an instant sense of pleasure as I glanced down at Ethan cooing softly, his arms waving to explore the air around him. His tiny fingers captivated me. What would he grow up to do? Who would he become? I glanced at Kelli to share my wonder, but she looked in the other direction, toward the hills, a slight frown marring her otherwise beautiful features.

In the blink of an eye, my life had changed course. I was still trying to get my feet under me. Not just with my company, but with the idea that I was a father. It was all so different that my first instinct was to be cautious. I almost couldn’t fathom the turn of events, the presence of Ethan, Kelli, and my dad with me. My dad, the guy who always had something negative to say about me or what I was doing with my life. Whose often harsh and critical comments I blamed on his PTSD, even though I knew that more often than not, he was just a mean bastard.

Formerly impossible to please, I watched my dad's face break into a smile every time he gazed down at Ethan, snuggled contentedly in the stroller. And Kelli. What a change! Since she'd moved in, I'd not witnessed any of her former impatience, arrogance, and, let's be honest, bitchiness. Could having been pregnant done something with her hormones? Tweaked her brain? I didn't know and I didn't much care to delve too deep into that, but the two of them seem to have changed. A lot.

And Ethan had everything to do with it.

For the first time in I didn't know how long, my dad and I spent most of an afternoon together without a harsh word exchanged between us. It was Kelli's idea for this family get-together, a way to reconnect in a comfortable atmosphere. She'd called my dad and invited him here to get to know his grandson a bit better, and he'd accepted. Surprise, surprise. He'd always liked her and she knew it.

Once again, my emotions were all over the map. Of course, I was pleased that everyone seemed to be getting along, but I also couldn't shake the feeling that sooner or later, the fun would be torn to pieces by some unforeseen event. Wasn't it always? Would I wake up from this dream and find that it had all been nothing but a cruel joke?

We walked along the sidewalk that meandered through this part of Griffith Park, keeping to the shade for Ethan's sake. To my surprise, Sarah had seemed reluctant to let me take Ethan for this family "reunion" of sorts. The nervous bite of her lower lip, the glances at Ethan, the way she literally overpacked the baby bag and gave me numerous reminders of his cues and signals for hunger, that he was wet, that he had to poop, told me that she was reluctant to part from him for even the afternoon.

I certainly appreciated her dedication and devotion to Ethan, but couldn't help but notice the difference between the way she acted around the baby and how Kelli did. Kelli was Ethan's mother, and yet she still seemed uncertain of herself around him. I supposed that wasn’t unusual. A three-month-old was challenging to anyone, especially for someone of Kelli's temperament. She tried, and I respected her for that, but at the same time, the differences in mothering style and comfort level between Kelli and Sarah were totally opposite.

Of course, as a nanny, Sarah likely had experience with a wide range of babies’ ages, temperaments, and needs. She was a pro, one who showed supreme confidence every time she picked up Ethan, or with any aspect of his care. She continually focused on his needs, not hers. Not once had she complained about the multiple times she got up during the night to soothe him, feed him, or change him. While not overloud, I heard him when he woke up crying, even from my master bedroom with the door closed. My ears had grown more attuned to his presence, I picked up on his cries when a few weeks ago I would have slept through an earthquake.

His waking me didn't inconvenience me, and once I got up to help, but Sarah shooed me away and told me that this was her job, her responsibility, what she was getting paid for. She promised that she would do her best to calm him down as quickly as possible so as not to bother me.

Smiling, I gazed down now at the little guy. No way in hell could that little bundle of cuteness ever bother me. At that moment, Ethan woke again and began to fuss.

Kelli stopped pushing the stroller, eyes wide, as if uncertain what to do. She glanced at me. "You want to take him?" she asked in the process of reaching down for the baby. "Catch up on lost time?"

The moment Kelli picked up Ethan, he began to squall. Before I could reach for him, my dad extended his arms. "Here, Kelli, let me have him."

I watched in bewilderment as my dad gently cradled Ethan in his arms, supporting him with his forearms, the baby staring up into his face while my father smiled down at him. Amazing. Simply amazing. I didn't ever remember seeing an expression like that on my dad's face — peace, joy. He gently bounced Ethan and made funny cooing sounds, another first for me to witness. Ethan kept fussing and Dad gave the baby his little finger. Ethan's tiny fingers wrapped around it and began suckling on its tip.

Dad looked at me with a chuckle. "I do believe your little man's hungry."

"Here," I said, shrugging the baby bag strap off my shoulder and handing it to Kelli. "Sarah already prepared a couple of bottles. They're not heated, but she said when he's hungry, he'll take it lukewarm."

Kelli glanced at me, then the bag. She nodded and rummaged around until she found a capped bottle. She plucked the protective cover off the nipple and then handed it to my dad.

"Don't you want to feed him?" I asked, mostly to try to figure out her hesitation.

She looked at me and smiled. "He looks pretty content in your dad's arms, doesn't he?"

Before I could respond, Dad looked at her. "No, not me. It's been a long time since I've fed a baby."

He glanced at me and then extended the baby toward her. "Here, you can feed him."

Kelli reached for the baby, her eyes flicking nervously between the now fussing infant and my dad. She took Ethan awkwardly in her arms, holding him a little more upright than I had ever seen Sarah do, and then touched the nipple to his lips. He fussed, his face puckering and turning red, his tiny fists waving in the air as he squalled.

"The nipple's upside down, Kelli," I commented. I’d made the same mistake the first time I fed him.

Perhaps Kelli was just flustered, having both me and my dad watching. She offered a soft laugh, mumbled something unintelligible and turned the bottle around, then once again touched the tip of the nipple to Ethan's mouth.

He latched onto it and took a couple of sucks on the nipple, then made a face. After a brief hesitation, he began to drink, making his usual, funny sucking noises and loud swallows. All three of us watched, but then I glanced at Dad. Was he thinking about when I was that small? Had he ever fed me? I wanted to ask but didn't dare disturb the tenuous peace that existed between us. I wondered—

"Here, you take him," Kelli said suddenly, extending Ethan toward me. I gave her questioning glance. "I've got a crick in my shoulder. Hurry!"

I reached for Ethan, who was fussing again, balancing him while reaching for the bottle. Soon, he settled and drank his milk calmly.

I felt my dad's eyes on me the whole time. Even more incredibly, his hand clapped down on my shoulder and when I turned from Ethan to look at him, he said, "You're a natural, son."

I kept my expression under control, resisting the urge to widen my eyes and let my mouth drop open. It had been years since he called me son. Could the simple reappearance of Kelli and, of course, a grandson, have changed him so completely and so quickly? I didn't know and I wasn't about to start questioning this too deeply. All I knew was that things seemed to have turned around for me. Family was everything I’d ever wanted.

I never thought I would stop struggling to achieve my dad's respect. It was nearly impossible to avoid his criticisms — I should've done this, I should've become that. It never ended. His criticism during my youth had turned me to computers. I didn't have to interact with computers. I soon discovered I had a knack for programming, which led me to eventually start the company that was now in danger of being taken over by another.

I pushed thoughts of my company to the back of my mind. Right now, Kelli was back in my life and even more incredibly, I had a son. I was glad that I had taken Sarah's advice and given Kelli a second chance. Sure, we still had some kinks to work out, and we had yet to discuss what had broken us up, but I felt we were on the right track. As far as I could tell, motherhood had changed Kelli for the better.

She was still new with it, but so was I. Together, I have no doubt we would make it. Kelli would eventually become more comfortable in her role of taking care of Ethan. Maybe with Sarah's calming influence, Kelli would become surer of herself. Of course, I'd help out as much as I could, but I also knew that I would be spending a lot of time in the coming days at the office.

The thing that amazed me most was Dad. I was seeing a side of him I hadn't seen since I was little, before Mom died. After that, he rarely smiled. His struggles with PTSD, or shell shock as they called it back then, had taken control of him. His drinking had gotten out of control, turning him into a mean, vicious drunk. He only struck me a couple of times during those years. Not that I was excusing it. The abuse was mostly verbal and emotional at the time, but I had a mouth on me as a teenager. We butted heads nearly every day. By the time I turned eighteen, I couldn't wait to get out of the house. Now, over a decade later, I was able to view my dad as a human, not just "my dad."

In a way, now I understood my dad more than ever. Nothing could excuse his treatment of me or his behavior in those intervening years, but as an adult, I could say I understood it at least a little better.

Maybe it wasn't too late to develop a new relationship with him. Kind of like an "after- Ethan" relationship. It might be too late to ever have what I would consider an ideal relationship, and I was okay with that.

But Ethan? Sure as hell, I knew it wouldn’t be the same way for him. I was going to be the best father to him that I could, no matter what I had to do.