Page 44 of Nolan

"So it is true," Colt grins. "About damn time. Even I could see how you looked at her, and I only see you once in a blue moon."

"Yeah, well," I rub the back of my neck, feeling a flush of heat. "Sometimes it takes a while to see what's right in front of you."

"Happy for you, man," Colt says sincerely. "You deserve it after everything with Lisa."

The mention of Ashlynn's mother sends a familiar twinge through me, but it's duller now. "Thanks. It's... it's good. Really good."

I find the bolt I need, and we exchange goodbyes, with Colt promising again to call Mackenzie. As I head to the checkout, I feel a lightness in my step that has everything to do with knowing I'm heading home to Annabelle.

When I return home, Annabelle and Ashlynn are in the backyard. I stand at the window for a moment, watching them. Ashlynn is running in excited circles while Annabelle lays out a blanket on the grass, a picnic basket beside her. The swing set frame I've been working on stands half-finished in the corner of the yard.

I step outside, holding up the bag from the hardware store. "Got the bolt we need. That swing will be secure by tonight."

"Daddy." Ashlynn launches herself at me, and I scoop her up into a hug. "Anna says we can have a picnic and then build fairy houses. Can you help?"

"Absolutely," I say, setting her down. "Nothing I'd rather do."

Annabelle approaches, her eyes warm. "How was the hardware store?"

"Good. Ran into Colt." I lower my voice slightly. "He's still struggling with the custody situation. I gave him Mackenzie's number, she might be able to help him find a better place before his court date."

Her expression softens. "That was thoughtful of you."

"Single dads club," I shrug, but her approval means more than I let on.

We spread out the picnic lunch Annabelle has prepared, and the simple joy of sitting in the sunshine with my two favorite people fills me with a contentment I'd forgotten was possible. As we eat, Ashlynn chatters about her plans for elaborate fairy dwellings, complete with furniture and gardens.

"We're going to need supplies," Annabelle says, ticking items off on her fingers. "Twigs for the frame, moss for the roof, shells for decoration..."

"And tiny rocks for the fairy path." Ashlynn adds, bouncing with excitement. "And flowers for the fairy garden."

"I think we can manage that," I laugh, ruffling her hair. "After lunch, I'll finish up that swing set, and then I'm all yours for fairy construction."

Annabelle meets my eyes over Ashlynn's head, and the understanding there warms me from the inside out. She knows how much I cherish these small moments, how the weight of being both mother and father to Ashlynn has sometimes felt crushing over the years.

"We'll wait for the important parts," she promises, and I believe her.

After lunch, I spend an hour securing the swing set while Annabelle and Ashlynn collect building materials from around the yard. Every few minutes, Ashlynn runs over to show me a particularly special find, an unusually shaped twig, a perfect pebble, a flower petal soft as silk.

When the swing set is finally secure, I test it thoroughly, tugging and pushing with more force than any three-year-old could manage. Satisfied, I join my girls on the blanket, where an impressive collection of natural materials has been sorted into neat piles.

"We're ready to start building," Annabelle announces, her cheeks flushed with sunlight and happiness.

Annabelle looks up at me, her cheeks flushed from the sun, a smudge of dirt across her forehead. She's never been more beautiful.

"We saved the garage for you," she says with a smile that's just for me.

I loosen my tie and kneel beside them, taking the twigs Ashlynn offers. "Well then, let's get building."

We work together in the dappled shade, Ashlynn directing my every move with the authority of a tiny construction foreman. As the afternoon stretches on, I find myself mentally rearranging the future I'd envisioned. It's no longer just Ashlynnand me against the world, but something richer, fuller, a family in the truest sense.

Later, after dinner has been cleared and Ashlynn is tucked into bed with dreams of fairies dancing in her head, I find Annabelle on the back porch, nursing a glass of wine.

"Room for one more?" I ask, sliding the door closed behind me.

She shifts over on the porch swing, making space beside her. "Always."

I sit, draping my arm around her shoulders, and she leans into me with a contented sigh. For a while, we simply exist together in the quiet, watching fireflies begin to dot the darkening yard.

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