It’s half past noon and I rush out of my office, only to be caught by Agnes.

“Not so fast!” she warns, shooting out of her chair to block my exit.

“You do realize I have a pretty important—”

“Yes, I do,” she interrupts, completely ignoring the look of irritation on my face. “I also know that we’re both going to be in big trouble if you don’t look your absolute best.”

I sigh as she looks me over with all the scrutiny of a forensic specialist going over a crime scene—as though I didn’t already take special care with what I picked out to wear today. Heaven help me, I even sought out CoCo’s counsel, naturally taking his advice with a grain of salt. I’ve stuck with my trademark Armani suit, today in slate grey. Rather than the full pink explosion underneath that he suggested, I’ve gone with a grey tie that has subtle pink stripes.

Agnes reaches up to adjust it, then smooths down my lapels. “Perfect,” she says, moving back to inspect me once again.

She eyes the bouquet on her desk, and gives me a pointed look. “Don’t forget to pick up the flowers!”

“Duly noted.”

I finally had to admit, after more than a number of bouquets from Beau, flowers do brighten up the place. Now, every three days a new batch arrives for her desk and the tables lining the entry, as well as the reception areas on each floor.

“Flowers are ready and waiting. Permission to leave?”

She gives me smile. “Permission granted. Good luck!”

“Hopefully I wont need it,” I say, rushing toward the elevators.

* * *

I’m at Stuart’s school where he’s now in kindergarten. Simone and I eventually came to a compromise. No way was I putting in him in that anything-goes school she wanted. No way was she allowing me to send him to any school that wasn’t within walking distance of where we live. This school has actually turned out better than expected, if slightly new-agey for my own tastes. On the other hand, I do like the perk of Stuart having a half-day on Fridays so the two of us can spend all afternoon together. It’s our uncle-nephew time together where we usually grab a few hot dogs then spend the rest of the afternoon off at the park or movies or some other fun activity. I’m going to miss this when he gets older. Best to enjoy it while I can.

Right now I watch him through the glass of his classroom where he’s building something out of LEGOs with two other boys. He’s so deep in concentration that he doesn’t notice me at first.

These days the purple faux hawk is gone, replaced by something a little more normal: close shaved on the sides and longish curls on top. He’s also grown at least another inch or two since the spring. Tempus fugit.

He finally notices me and all focus on whatever it is he’s helping to build is forgotten.

“Uncle Archer!” he yells, popping up excitedly. It comes out muffled from behind the glass but there’s no denying that look on his face. Even though I get that same reaction every Friday—and God knows it thrills me every time—he knows today is special.

He runs toward the door and over to greet me. As usual I lift him up in the air and swing him around.

“So what did you learn today?” I ask as we collect his Batman backpack from his cubicle in the hallway.

“Uppercase and lowercase letters.”

“Hmm, very important stuff.”

We walk out in silence, me holding his hand, and I can tell something is bothering him. “What is it?” I ask, giving his arm a little shake.

He squints up at me. “Are you and Aunt Simone going to be my mommy and daddy?” He’s already picked up on American English from his classmates, and all traces of his slight British intonation are gone.

I raise my eyebrows at his question. I have wondered how we were going to deal with the guardianship issue. My mother has stuck to her promise not to challenge Simone and me. It doesn’t much matter since—at Simone’s insistence—she drops by every Sunday for dinner.

“Do you mean like adoption?”

He wrinkles his brow and looks off to the side. “I don’t know.” Then his head pops back to look at me. “But everyone else in class has a mommy and daddy, even step-mommies and step-daddies, and I don’t have any.”

I’ve become used to questions out of left field like this, but this one is especially precarious. I exhale and look at him. “What do you want us to be?”

His brow smooths in surprise as though the idea that he could choose hadn’t occurred to him. He shrugs again. “I don’t know.”

“Well, the nice thing about you, Simone, and me is that we are an extra special family, we can be anything you want. If you want us to adopt you, I think both of us would be more than happy to. It doesn’t have to mean Kevin and Bette aren’t your parents anymore, it just means you have two more parents.”

“Like step-parents?”

“Mmm...not really. Maybe we can work on a term for it.” I kneel down and look at him. “Whatever happens, we will always—always be a family, understand? That’s a bond that no one can break and doesn’t even need a name. It means you’re stuck with us whether you like it or not, got it?”

It takes him a second, but eventually that smile comes. “Got it.”

“Great,” I say, popping up. “Now we better get going before we’re late.”

* * *

“Bruce!”

I’m almost jealous at the enthusiasm with which Stuart screams the name. Then again, I’m not able to wag a tail so furiously or catch a ball as skillfully as the large boxer that practically tackles my nephew to the ground.

We’re at the doggy daycare to pick up the fourth addition to our unique family, Bruce the dog, named after a certain five-year-old’s favorite comic book character. It took Simone and Stuart all of two weeks to finally get me to cave. I did, however, put my foot down with regard to breed: nothing that I’m liable to trip over walking through the front door.

I watch the way Bruce slobbers over Stuart’s face and the squeal of laughter, and think this not so little addition to the disruption in my life was worth it.

* * *

“So, do we still like it?” I ask Stuart.

I’m holding him in my arms so he can look down into the little box on the counter. He twists his lips in consideration. “Aunt Simone will like it,” he finally concedes.

I laugh and let him slide down. “I suppose that’s a good enough recommendation.” Ten minutes later I have the box in my possession and enough points on my credit card to cover something else extra special later on, perhaps a flight to Paris. Not that I need them, of course.

We untie Bruce’s leash outside the shop and, after a quick stop to pick up a bouquet of pink tulips, head to Central Park.

* * *

“Not yet!” hisses CoCo, scampering over to meet us before we can make it to Bow Bridge.

Stuart and I have already had our customary hot dogs and have found our way toward the pre-assigned spot. CoCo grabs my arm and practically drags me out of the way behind a set of trees.

“Shooting is still in progress,” he looks down at the flowers, “Oh good, her favorite. Everything about this has to be absolutely perfect!”

As if the pressure wasn’t already on.

We watch through the trees as Vanessa shoots photo after photo of Simone, in between tourists passing by. It’s mid-October and she’s in a white sweater and a long white skirt, somehow aptly looking like a bride. I feel my heart start to beat double-time just looking at her.

At some point, they both stop and Simone rushes over to look at the pictures on Vanessa’s digital camera. While she’s busy scrolling through them, Vanessa reaches up to scratch the back of her head.

“There’s the signal,” CoCo says, actually clapping with excitement.

I take a deep breath and head out. “Wish me luck.”

“You know you got this,” CoCo says, slapping my arm with a smile.

“Good luck,” Stuart says happily.

Even Bruce manages a bark.

I guess maybe I do have this.

She’s still preoccupied with looking through the pictures as I make my way up the bridge. Everyone around us has noticed me, flowers in one hand and a determined expression on my face.

A year ago if anyone would have told me that I’d be proposing to Simone Parker—soon to be Bennett if all goes well—I wouldn’t even be laughing, I’d be wondering what drugs they were on. Now as I look at her, I remember the girl who walked like sunshine into my life and left a burn so deep that it never managed to cool.

She finally senses me and looks up, her eyes fluttering in surprise. Friday afternoons are usually my time with Stuart—no Aunts allowed. A smile lights up her face, hitching with confusion as she notices the flowers.

“Archer, what are you—where’s Stuart?”

She looks past me to where Stuart, Bruce and CoCo are observing from the side and it slowly but surely hits her.

“Oh...Oh, Archer!”

I hold up one finger before she actually jumps the gun. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. Already Vanessa has rescued the camera from Simone’s hands and moved to the side for the best vantage point. I hand Simone the flowers. She takes them and actually begins jumping with excitement as I kneel on the bridge. At this point, the tourists have literally stopped to watch, all of them pulling out their cameras as well.

I pull out the box from my pocket and open it for her, revealing the large pink diamond ring nestled inside.

“Simone, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife...again.”

She laughs and all of a sudden tears spring from her eyes. “Yes—yes!” she yells.

I exhale, suddenly realizing I was holding my breath. I can actually now feel the sweat underneath my shirt. Have I ever been this nervous before?

I stand up and place the ring on her finger. The next moment her arms are around my neck, practically strangling me. It’s a feeling I can live with, especially with the crowd clapping and cheering us on. Bruce’s bark tells me Stuart and CoCo have finally joined us and we pull apart.

“Congratulations, Aunt Simone!”

“Oh you, sweet sweet boy, come here!” she says, bending over to hug him. “How long have you known about this?”

“Uncle Archer said we had to keep it a secret.”

She lifts him up, which is getting more and more difficult these days. “My two men,” She says looking from him to me. “What am I going to do with you guys?”

I come in to hug the both of us. “I guess you have a lifetime to figure it out.”

* * *

The wedding, one year later, is absolutely blog worthy. At least that’s what I was told. Since we never actually formally divorced, it is strictly ceremonial, which doesn’t make it any less special. Everyone that was important in our lives was there. Stuart as my best man, Vanessa as Simone’s maid of honor. CoCo was the one to give her away. My mother actually had tears in her eyes, which was an enlightening surprise. Even Beau and Agnes—the latter of whom is to receive her own ring fairly soon, or so I’ve been informed—were there.

All I know is that when I see Simone walking up to meet me, no one else matters. It’s an image that will be forever cemented in my memory.

Kevin was right. Sometimes you just know, and I definitely do. I know that I can trust Simone with everything. I know that she’s the one. Perhaps, I even knew it the first moment I saw her walking arm and arm with her sister all those years ago. If there was any doubt, that kiss after we both say, “I do” (for the second—and a million times better—time) cements it.

Everything that happens during our honeymoon in Paris, well…those will be saved away for another part of my memory.