“Sure.”
 
 I leave the kitchen with Dozer right behind me and walk down the hall to my bedroom. I purchased my house from my parents four years ago when they decided it was time for them to get into something smaller with less maintenance. They found a two-bedroom condo not far away with lawn care included, and since I had been looking for a bigger place, I put an offer in on their house without them knowing, so they didn’t take a cut to their profit in order to help me out.
 
 Before the kids and I moved in, I had the house gutted and remodeled. I updated the kitchen, all the bathrooms, the floors, and I finished out the basement so the kids can hang there if they need space. It took forever, but in the end, the house was like new. But in the old part of town, where the yards are bigger, and you don’t have the hassle of an HOA telling you what you can and can’t do. So, in the winter, I can park my boat in the driveway, and in the summer, if I miss a week cutting the grass, I don’t have someone sending me a letter in the mail telling me I need to get on it.
 
 After I get dressed, I grab my wallet and my keys and walk back into the kitchen, where the kids are talking quietly.
 
 “What are you two talking about?”
 
 “Cooper was just telling me about a kid in class that is bullying him and another girl?”
 
 “Seriously, Billie?” he shouts at his sister.
 
 “Dad should know.” Billie shrugs.
 
 “Coop.” I wait until his eyes come to me. “What’s going on?”
 
 “Nothing, the kid is just a jerk, Dad.” He sighs.
 
 “Is he picking on you?”
 
 “He wasn’t, he was picking on the new girl in our class, and I told him to stop so he started just making comments and being dumb.”
 
 “Do I need to talk to your teacher about this?”
 
 “No, it’s okay.” He slides off his stool. “He’s just stupid.”
 
 “You sure?” I try not to step in too much when Cooper and his classmates or friends are having disagreements. Kids are kids, and they fight, then get over shit a day later. And in life, you won’t always have someone there to step in. You need to learn early to stand up for yourself.
 
 “Yeah.” He walks his bowl to the sink and rinses it out. I look at Billie for some insight, but she just shrugs.
 
 “Alright, bud, but if he keeps it up or if it becomes too much, I want you to tell me.”
 
 “Okay, Dad,” he mutters.
 
 “Do you have all your school stuff ready?” I ask him.
 
 “Yeah, I just need to get my backpack and fill my water bottle.”
 
 “Do that now.” I look over at Billie. “Do you have all your stuff packed?”
 
 “Yeah, my bag is by the front door.” She carries her plate to the sink.
 
 “Are you up to riding today, or do you want me to drive you?”
 
 “I’ll ride.” She puts her plate in the dishwasher then I follow her to the mudroom and Cooper meets us there a minute later. With my cup of coffee in hand I walk with the two of them into the garage where their bikes are parked.
 
 “Coop will be at Gigi’s after school until baseball practice. You can go over there or come home. Just let me know.”
 
 “The tryouts are after school until five, I can ride over to the baseball field when they’re done.”
 
 “Sounds good.” I kiss the side of her head, then pull Coop in for a hug.
 
 With their helmets on, they take off down the driveway then head down the block. I know without me asking her to do it that she’ll follow Coop on the five-minute ride to the elementary school since it’s on the way to hers then ride the rest of the way to the high school which is about eight minutes further.
 
 Closing the garage, I head back inside and pour myself a to-go mug of coffee, then head back out and get Dozer in my Jeep.
 
 When I arrive at Rafe Motors, both Benett and Hector’s trucks are out front, but Hanson’s motorcycle is not parked in his usual spot. I don’t monitor the guys’ hours; they show up when they show up and leave when they want. They don’t need me babysitting them. Not when they are grown men who know what needs to be done every day. And none of them have an issue staying longer if something comes up.