Page 54 of The Family Man

“Poppy, say sorry right now!” I know I’m growling, but she needs to understand who is in charge here.

She looks at me, her lips are pouting. “You said make a present or whatever!”

“Yes, but you also know that you aren’t supposed to touch them.” My voice is raising, how can a five-year-old do this to me?

“Um, it’s okay. I have more. Thank you, Poppy.” Sage reaches out to cuddle her and brings her into a hug.

I walk around the island and lightly tug Poppy off Sage’s embrace. “Tell Sage sorry right now. You have been testing me for weeks. Do it right now!”

Her lips begin to tremble, and she bursts into tears “I want Uncle Daire.”

“No! Say Sorry! Now!” I don’t shout but my voice is stern enough for her to know I mean business.

She wails even harder, Sage looks like she wants to slap my hand away.

“Am sworry, Sage,” Poppy mutters. She hiccups and cries even louder.

“Go to your room and I will bring you both dinner. Go.” I step back and point to the stairs.

She screams all the way up, pausing ever so often to go tenor on her lungs. God, I feel like I want to cry. Disciplining your baby girl is the worst.

As she disappears, Nikhil looks at me and shakes his head with disappointment.

He turns and follows his sister.

“I am so sorry, Sage.”

She looks at me like she is upset, and then we hear Poppy scream some more.

“This is not how I planned our night.” I rub my forehead in frustration. I feel her hand rubbing my back in circles.

“It’s a learning curve that you both will come to understand and respect.” She smiles sweetly at me.

“I hear a but.”

“But she is a baby. She is five, trying to figure out where she fits in. She just lost her mom.”

I feel like a brick house is falling on me. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. Go upstairs, make peace, get the kids and let’s eat.”

I pull her into my arms and look into those deep brown eyes. “I like having you as a girlfriend.”

She tiptoes and kisses me. “I like being one. Now go.”

* * *

ZAC

My heart is torn into shreds when I hear my baby girl crying. She is hyperventilating, she is so mad and crying so hard that she can’t breathe.

I step into my son’s room, and he doesn’t have to speak. His face says it all, his intense blue eyes make me feel like I am the lowest of low. I think his eyebrows may be touching with that frown. He’s petting his sister’s head and still warning me not to mess up with a look.

Poppy is crying, her head is on his lap and her little body shakes with each shudder.

“Hi.” I walk into the room and drag the tiny chair from his desk close to the bed.

She stops and turns her body away into Nikhil’s waist.

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