Lex
I wait at the main house while Tabitha goes to pick up the kids. I wanted to go with her, but Piper and Gregory have no idea I’m home. I don’t know how they’re going to react. Hell, I don’t know how I’m going to react. If we’re going to break down and cry, it should be at home: not someone else’s house.
I walk around the familiar home, touching things as I move through the living room. There’s a little clay pot sitting on the coffee table. I can tell from the paint choice that Gregory was the one who made it. Purple is his favorite color. Piper likes green. I know so many little things about my children, but I’ve missed an entire year of their lives.
I’ve missed so much.
Tabitha was amazing about video chats and email updates on the kids, but you can only know so much from a distant. How many little things happen each day that you miss out on when you simply aren’t there? Things like inside jokes or silly gestures get lost when you aren’t around. Things like facial expressions or silly sounds are forgotten. There are going to be so many things I have to catch up on, and part of me wonders if I’m ready.
Am I going to be able to handle that?
Am I going to be able to handle trying to make up for lost time?
Am I going to be able to handle having to have every little joke and story explained to me?
Am I going to be able to handle the fact that my kids might have forgotten me?
Am I going to be able to handle any of it?
For just a second, the room seems to spin, but then I snap out of my pity party. There’s no time for this. Not now. Not when things with Tabitha are looking up. Not when the future is bright and bold. There’s no more time for feeling sorry or scared. I felt that way for three years. I’m done with that.
I’m ready to move forward.
With a deep breath and a renewed sense of energy, I wait until I hear the car pulling into the driveway. I immediately hear Piper and Gregory laughing and giggling, talking and chattering. I stand up in the center of the living room and wait, eager to hear what they have to say, eager to hear anything they have to say.
It’s been so long since I heard their voices in person.
It’s been forever.
“Okay, okay. Everyone calm down,” I hear Tabitha slip the key in the lock and turn it. Then she pushes the door open and the kids holler and cheer as they tumble into the house. I see Piper’s mess of bright-red hair and Gregory’s long blonde locks. They both look so much like their mother it’s crazy.
And then they see me.
And they stop.
For just a split-second, time stands perfect still. It’s like a scene from a movie. It’s like a scene where something incredible happens and you just can’t move because nothing is happening while your heart catches up to your brain.
Piper is the first to scream.
“Daddy!” She says, and races toward me. She throws her body at me and I catch her, swinging her around.
“Hey, princess,” I murmur, kissing her hair. Oh, how I’ve missed my little girl.
“It’s really you, Daddy,” she says again.
“Yeah, baby, it’s me. It’s really me.”
Gregory comes over next. He’s a little more hesitant, a little less enthusiastic, but that’s always been Gregory. Piper is my spitfire and Greg is my cautious one, my careful one.
“Daddy,” he says. Piper hops out of my arms and I squat down so I’m eye-level with Gregory. He walks over and places his hand on my chin, running it over my face. “You have hair on your face, Daddy.”
“I know,” I laugh, rubbing a hand over the rough stubble. “It’s been a couple of days since I shaved. I need to get on that, don’t I?”
He nods solemnly, staring at me, watching me. Then, after what feels like an eternity, Gregory seems to decide that he’s excited to see me, after all, and he gives me a huge hug.
“I missed you, Daddy,” he says. “I missed you so much. Every day.”
“I missed you, too, sport,” I tell him, burying my face in his hair. “I thought about you every day, bud.”
We hug for a few minutes, just enjoying being able to actually touch each other. Then the kids calm down and relax, and start asking me questions.
“Did you ride on an airplane?”
“Did you kill bad guys?”
“Why didn’t you talk to us every single day?”
“Did you meet any new friends?”
“Can we see your gun?”
“What did you do when the weather was bad?”
“Do you like being back in America?”
“All right, all right,” Tabitha swoops in calmly. “I think that’s enough questions for Dad right now. He’s still pretty tired from his flight.”
“That’s not what I’m tired from,” I joke, shooting her a wink.
“Really?” Piper wrinkles her nose. “What are you tired from?”
Before I can answer, Tabitha once again saves me.
“Okay, go upstairs and unpack your slumber party bag. Gregory, you too.”
“Aw, do we have to?” The kids both whine in unison.
“Yep,” Tabitha says, and I’m surprised when they both shrug and grab their bags, then head upstairs to unpack.
“You run a tight ship, Mrs. Baker,” I tell her.
“You’re a tight ship,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes.
“What was that, now?” I ask, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her close.
“Nothing.”
“Am I going to have to spank you before we ever even get to Anchored together?”
“What?” Her eyes go wide as she searches my face. “You want to go with me?”
“Of course I want to go with you. I want to show you off.” I stroke her cheek gently. “I bet you look beautiful in fet-wear.”
She grins and nods ecstatically, which makes me laugh.
“Yeah,” she says. “I look pretty good. In heels? Not so much. I usually go barefoot, but I think I made it work for me.”
“I can hardly wait to see.”
I kiss her while we wait for the kids to come back downstairs. I kiss her and hold her and thank the universe for bringing my girl back to me.
Then I remind myself once more that everything is going to be okay.
What could possibly go wrong?