Page 88 of Adrift Without You
Ky is more easy-going, and I envy him. That’s not to say he doesn’t worry. He’s an incredibly present and attentive father and parenting side-by-side with him has healed parts of me I never thought possible. We both came from terrible families, but together we’ve created a home where love is nourished and can grow abundantly. And I’m damned proud that I turned out to be pretty decent at this dad thing.
Milly’s unbrushed hair falls across her forehead, and I tuck it behind her ear.
“Daddy needs to wake up soon cos it’s Lu’s graduation day and we can’t be late. Why don’t you tickle him awake too?” I suggest.
Milly purses her lips and places her index finger to her mouth. “Shhhhhh,” she says as she climbs over me and on top of Ky. I turn around to watch, my husband stirring as soon as I move.
Milly’s excited high pitched voice yells, “Tickle, tickle, tickle,” as she attacks his face and neck.
“Is this the tickle monster?” he bellows as he grabs her, sitting up and lifting her into the air. Milly shrieks, feigning fear, enthralled in their game. “I’m going to tickle the tickle monster and then eat her for breakfast.” Ky places her down on her back, tickling her tummy as she kicks her legs and squeals with laughter.
“Help me, Papa! Save me!” Her eyes are wide with delight. Ky lifts her pyjama top and blows raspberries on her tummy, and she giggles even more. “Daddy, Daddy, stop!” Ky does as he’s told, smiling down at her, waiting, knowing what comes next.
“No, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she says. Ky starts up again, Milly giggling so much she begins to hiccup.
I could watch them play together all day.
Milly’s full name is Mila Davies-Young and biologically she is mine. Our matching brown hair and eyes are a dead giveaway, although she is very tall for her age and has deep olive skin—qualities which we assume she’s inherited from her biological mother.
“Dada Dada. Pa Pa,” sounds through the baby monitor.
“I’ll go,” I say, sitting up and stealing a quick kiss from Ky. Milly’s little hands immediately try to push our faces apart.
“No, no, Papa,” she says, wagging her index finger at me like a strict old schoolteacher. “Daddy can kissme,and you can kissme, and you two can hug ifIsay you can. Butnokissing. Kay?”
We both chuckle. For the last six months she’s been interrupting us every time we show any affection towards each another. Now we need to be sneaky, stealing a quick peck whenever she’s not looking. As for behind closed doors, I can say that after five years of marriage, the attraction between me and Ky only grows stronger.
“Milly, let’s go get started on breakfast.” She agrees and jumps onto Ky for a piggyback ride downstairs.
Down the hall in Ollie’s room, I find our baby boy standing in his crib, babbling away. He seems happy this morning so hopefully he’s having a reprieve from the pain of his tooth. He’s the sweetest, softest little boy and I can’t get over how much he looks like Kyle—his fine blonde hair falling in soft waves and his giant blue eyes framed with long, fair lashes. Picking him up, I place him on my hip and kiss the top of his head. “Hey, my beautiful boy. You feelin’ better this mornin’?”
Ollie smiles, bright, alert eyes gazing up at me. “Pa, Pa, go go,” he says, pointing to the door.
“We gotta change your nappy first.”
Originally, we only intended to have one child together but by the time Milly was twelve months old I already wanted another. Ky had his little version of me in her, but I didn’t have my little version of Ky.
We had the money due to the success of my business, the bulk of my work now in large commercial contracts. The biggest benefit is that I can afford to employ a manager and work fewer hours, giving me the time to enjoy fatherhood.
Ky cut back on work too. After taking six months off when Mila was born, he only wanted to return part-time, giving him the work/life balance he always wanted.
Finishing with the nappy, I return Ollie to my hip. His first birthday is next week, and he’s already taking a few tentative steps here and there. Both kids have the same egg donor, whichwe were so grateful for, giving them a biological tie to each other. While they have different hair, eye, and skin colouring, they do have similar-shaped faces, noses and mouths. You can see they are siblings.
Downstairs in the kitchen I find father and daughter making pancakes together. Ky has Milly standing on a chair at the kitchen counter mixing the batter with a wooden spoon as he hovers close by.
“Dada, Dada,” Ollie says, reaching out to him. Passing Ollie over, I take the opportunity to sneak in another kiss and a squeeze of my husband’s bum.
“Good morning bubba,” Ky says, peppering our son’s face with kisses.
Lu bursts into the kitchen, startling us all. “It’s today!” she exclaims, arms thrown out wide. “The day has finally arrived. I was beginning to think graduation would never actually happen.”
“Just enjoy it, pumpkin. You’ve worked so hard.” Ky kisses her good morning on the forehead.
Lu turns to me. “Pops, Ethan’s definitely coming, right?”
“He wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
After a lot of congestion in the kitchen—including kids being passed around as we cook—we finally sit at the table for breakfast. Lu is always on hand to help with her younger siblings, who she adores.
