Page 100 of Anything for You
Apparently, Tommy had gotten Tristan’s mom’s fire, and Leo seemed to have a huge amount of Nikki’s quiet, thoughtful nature. She claimed he was more like me, but whatever mix he was, I loved him. And I couldn’t wait to see what this little spitfire in my arms turned out to be. At just shy of twelve months, she was a mini boss and I suspected we were going to understand Tristan and Winnie’s lives with Tommy a bit more.
“Hey.” Beast stepped through the door, Cookie behind him, and extended his arms to Kenny. “Gimme.”
Barbie scrunched his nose, but happily handed over one of his babies, right as Cookie held out his hands for the other.
The daycare and preschool we’d built not long after Will was born and two other Saint employees became pregnant had become one of the best parts of the business. Nestled on a corner of the property in a separate building, there was a huge outdoor play area with a ridiculous series of playgrounds geared toward different ages that Cookie spared no expense on. As the kids got older, we’d added a preschool, which had been hugely popular, especially due to the ever-present need for quality childcare. Now we had about half community families and half Saint families using the facility.
But this? Snuggle time? It’d been Kenny’s idea, and it was maybe the best thing we’d ever done. Any afternoon parents were welcome to come in and snuggle their babies. Of course, anyone could do this anytime. But to someone who’d never had this closeness, never had doting parents or even the chance to be near his sibling until far too late, it embodied how sweet our lives in Silverton were.
As Beast and Cookie settled into their seats and tucked their given Malcom-Carmichael twin into their arms, I sighed.
“I think coordinated snuggle times is a real triumph,” Kenny said, leaning back and tucking his hands behind his head, eyes closed.
“So you can nap while your friends hold your babies?” Cookie asked, no malice in his tone.
He and Beast came to our weekly scheduled time to get their baby fix, as Beast had once explained. Jess’s pregnancy had been miserable enough they’d decided one was the perfect number, and Cookie and Elise had recently started fostering to adopt two amazing kids who were in elementary school.
Barbie snorted. “Let’s not pretend you don’t love it even more than I do, Sir Beast-a-lot. We both know you’re obsessed with the twins.”
Beast grumbled but then traced one of the baby’s eyebrows with an expression so protective and reverent, there was no arguing Barbie’s point.
“I don’t pretend I don’t love it,” Cookie said, smiling down at the twin he was holding. Honestly, when they were bundled, I had no hope of telling them apart.
“Where’s Stone?” Adam asked, settling into his chair with his tiniest little person, Darcy Jane.
“Right here, sorry.”
Stone showed up in the doorway, bending to unlock the gate while his gaze remained on the eighteen-month-old in his arms.
Barbie popped up and jogged to the gate, unlocking it so our friend could get in.
“Daddy late. But Daddy here.” Sweet little Lila snuffled and repeated herself. Her hair sproutedfrom two dark little pigtails on either side of her head and her bright blue eyes were even more startling than usual thanks to the tears tracking down her full, red cheeks.
Dorian hustled in, dropping a bag and settling into the sofa next to me.
“I’m so sorry, little one. Daddy’s car broke down, so I was late. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” He clutched her to him, snuggling his tearful daughter, before pulling back. “I’ll try my best not to be late again.”
Those big, bright eyes blinked and she said, “Bear help you.”
We all chuckled, and Dorian did, too. It was possible his little angel of a child loved his dog even more than she loved her parents. No doubt she’d love the new little baby who’d arrive in a few months ferociously, too.
Apparently, her faith in Bear couldn’t be shaken, even if her faith in her dad temporarily was.
He grabbed a book from the basket set on the low coffee table in front of us and showed her. She beamed, and after wiping the lingering tears from her face, she turned to me.
“Oh hi, Unc Bwooss.” Her little voice was so precious. “Babies are sleeping.” Though it sounded more likesweeping.
“Yeah, the babies are tired. Are you?”
She yawned but shook her head. “No, I not.”
I grinned at her right as Dorian did, and then he started reading.
I took a beat like I tried to every time we did this, stepping back from the hassles and harried schedule of work and life and obligations to soak in this moment. Wilder, no longer a daycare daddy now that his youngest had reached kindergarten, held the fort at Saint Security in such moments. These men had been my family for years now.We’d been through untold challenges while active duty and an incredible adventure since.
Sitting in this peaceful space with the chatter of kids and a baby crying somewhere down the hall, for a moment I could hardly breathe past the enormity of it all. We’d all made it out, made the transition to the civilian world, and we’d all found what we’d been looking for. Purpose, family, home, community.
Here we were. In the throes of wiping noses and changing diapers and teething babies and figuring out what it looked like to parent, we were doing it together.
