Page 54 of Fire

“You’re perfect the way you are.” Mom pats her hand. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Nell glances around the table, studying each of us while chewing her bottom lip. “All the girls have white hair and the boys have brown,” she says finally, as if it’s a revelation. “Giuseppe DiSanto at school? He says I have the same eyes as Micah, but he has the same eyes as you.” She points at Dad. “I don’t look like my other grandma and grandpa very much. Sorry, Mama, but it’s true. I don’t act like them either. But you guys laugh a lot. Like me!” She beams.

“Your grandpa makes me laugh every single day,” Mom says. “It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him.”

“Not the only reason,” Dad says with a grin. “I seem to remember a certain dance I did that caught your attention.” He folds his arms on the table, his biceps flexing. If I can be in half the shape he’s in when I’m his age, I’ll call it a win.

“That’s a story for another day,” I say before Nell can ask too many questions.

“Did you know your grandma and I made a pact promising not to fall in love with each other?” Dad widens his eyes at Nell. “And she had the nerve to break it,” he finishes, jutting his chin at Mom, who swats his arm.

“I wasn’t the only one who broke that pact, thank you very much. It takes two to tango, mister, and you do love to dance.”

“That seems silly.” Nell climbs onto her knees, too excited to sit still.

“I agree. It’s very silly.” Mom glances at me with a secret smile. “Promising not to fall in love is like promising your heart won’t beat. You have no control over either thing.”

Ivy and I clear the table while my parents entertain Nell in the living room. We join them after the dishes are done and spend another hour before a particularly large yawn from a six-year-old has us checking the time.

“We should probably get going,” Dad finally says after another large yawn from Nell. “Give this little family time to themselves.”

Whoa. Family?

I turn to Ivy and the look on her face says she’s tripping over the word the same as me.

“Oh, Eli…” Mom leans her head on his shoulder. “I don’t want to go. I feel like we just got here.”

“Cry me a table, Max.” Dad gives Mom a wicked grin and I have to wonder how a grown man can be so corny. He’s said stupid shit like that as long as I can remember just because it makes Mom laugh.

Dad catches the look on my face and doubles down. “Cry me a table.”

Ivy bursts out laughing while Nell cocks her head. “How do you cry a table?”

“When Grandpa and Grandma Hutton were friends,” Ivy explains, “it used to drive her crazy when he got sayings wrong. The real saying is cry me a river—”

“But he made it funny by saying ‘table!’” Nell giggles, then frowns, looking at the people gathered around her. “But who’s Max?”

“That’s me.” Mom raises her hand. “He’s called me that for as long as I can remember.”

My parents pass out hugs, Mom promising Nell they’ll have a baking date soon, and then suddenly, it’s just the three of us.

Me and my family. The word spins in my head and I’m dizzy with it. I went from single to…a family?

The description doesn’t really fit.

Ivy and me…we aren’t even dating. We used to be in love, but I’m not sure where we stand on that now. Our one-time thing has been exactly that. We’ve been completely professional since that first night.

We’re just…living together, but separately. With our child.

Fuck.

Did I just describe most of the families in this country?

“I think that went well.” Ivy places a hand on my arm and shoots me a questioning look. Shit. I’m so stuck on that word that I’ve been glaring at the door since it closed.

“I am so lucky,” Nell crows, spinning in circles before plopping onto the couch, her feet kicking up as she leans back. “I loved our small family, Mama, when it was just you and me, but it’s real nice having a big family, too. With daddies and grandmas and grandpas that are funny and nice.”

I stroll over and plop down beside her. “You aren’t even close to understanding the meaning of the word ‘big,’ kid. I’ve got more aunts and uncles and cousins than you can count, which means you do, too. There are more of us than in your whole class.”

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