Page 91 of Inked Daddies

The mention of the baby sends a rush of warmth through me. I press a hand to my stomach. “Thank you.”

Dad clears his throat. “Well, if we’re done planning to scandalize the entire parish, I’ve got a half-broken door out back. I could use some more help before y’all run off to your love nest.”

Sam picks up the hammer from the floor, handing it to Dad. “Lead the way.”

As the men shuffle outside to mend the door, I wipe the table that served as Trick’s operating station and straighten a few pictures my father has on the wall.

One day,there will be pictures of my child here too. Our child.

Yes, the path ahead will be messy and full of complications. Yes, the folks in town will gossip. And yes, Dad’s acceptance is still tenuous at best. But for the first time, I’m not running from the future—I’m excited about it.

I move to the window, watching them work on the door in the early morning sun—Sam measuring carefully, Hugo holding boards in place, Dad barking instructions, and Trick snoozing on the couch. This is my family. Unconventional, sure, but so are most great things in life.

There’s a soft knock at the windowsill. Sam glances up, catching my eye, and he gives me a small, private smile that says,Come on, we need you out here.I return his smile, heart light. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I head outside to join them, stepping over bits of broken wood and shattered glass, into the brand new day that lies ahead.

The End

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