Page 44 of A Stable Daddy

I stop as I hit the bottom step, blinking in surprise at the three people seated around the little dining table, all nursing steaming mugs of coffee. Oscar, I expected. But the other two?

“Papa!” Mak is up and out of her chair and flinging her arms around me before I can properly process what is going on. “You’re finally awake. I thought Dad was the one who slept in. You were always the early bird.”

With my brain sluggish from only having just woken up, and still reeling from the surprise of seeing my step-kids sitting at my dining table so unexpectedly, my mouth engages before my filter does. “It’s not my fault Daddy kept me up late.”

Mortification kicks in at the same time Trev inhales his coffee and it erupts from his nose in a cacophony of splutters andchoking sounds. Oscar passes him a couple of paper towels and sends me an amused look over the top of Mak’s dark brown hair.

“Don’t panic,” he says calmly, already out of his own seat and moving around the table to stand at my side and rub my back. “Pretty sure one of us was going to slip up at some point. My money was on a couple of years down the line, mind you, but this just gets it over and done with nice and early.”

My face feels like it’s on fire. I cover my eyes with my hand, feeling Mak take a step away from me, ending our reunion hug. “Fucking hell,” I curse myself. “Can we just forget I said that?”

“No,” Mak says firmly, and I peek through a gap in my fingers to find her giving me a look so painfully reminiscent of Maddox that my heart hurts. I always did think she took after him more than her brother. Her eyes are soft with understanding and not even a hint of judgement, and her lips are curling upwards with a nearly invisible smile. “We’re in your safe space, and unannounced at that. Plus, Dad would kick our arses if we even considered making you change who you are and what makes you happy. I…no,” she looks over her shoulder to confirm with her brother, who nods, “wewant you to be yourself around us.”

My heart feels like it’s going to hammer its way out of my chest, but Mak’s words go a long way to bringing me down from an impending panic attack. “Even though he’s your age? You…you don’t think it’s weird?”

“You warned us that he was younger,” Trev says with a shrug. He balls up the napkins now that he’s finished mopping up his accidental mess. “Granted, you didn’t say how young, but age doesn’t change whether a person is good or bad, and we can tell Oz is good for you.”

“And the, um, the fact that I just…that I call him Daddy?”

Trev’s lips stretch into a wide grin. “Is fucking adorable. You’re never living it down, though.”

I groan and turn to bury my face in the crook of Oscar’s neck, and he pats my back consolingly, even while he chuckles. “You and Maddy raised damn good kids,” he says, and it should be weird that he sounds so paternal about people only a few years younger than himself, but it doesn’t. He’s a Daddy, so the maturity is a natural setting for him in a way. However, there’s a hint of melancholy when he adds, “I’d have given anything for parents like you guys.”

“Maddy did most of the work before I even came onto the scene,” I admit, and both my kids scramble to correct me almost immediately.

“Uh, no,” Mak says, sounding affronted. “You came into our lives during our teens when we were at our most impressionable and annoying.”

“You were never annoying,” I tell her, and Trev scoffs.

“Yes, she was. Especially during her boy band era.”

“Shut up,” Mak shoots back at him.

He starts humming a One Direction song. She stomps around the table to smack his shoulder.

I’m instantly transported back in time, and it makes me want to laugh and cry all at once.

“What are you guys even doing here?” I ask instead, trying to stave off the tears.

They exchange slightly guilty looks and then Trev runs his hand through his sandy-blond hair and answers, “We were worried about you. With the lawsuit, and newly dating some younger guy, and living on the opposite side of the country…”

“I know we should’ve called first,” Mak cuts in, “but you’ve always had an open-door policy, so we flew in overnight because we missed you and wanted to make sure you’re okay.” She points to the kitchen counter where a big Tupperware box is sitting and adds, “Mum even sent you a batch of her brownies.”

I was never close to Mak and Trev’s mother, Cynthia, but she was one hundred percent supportive of my relationship with her ex-husband. For as long as I’ve known her, she has travelled a lot for work, which was why Maddy had custody of the kids, but any time she was home, she would bake her signature brownies with the kids and send us batches when they’d come home. It’s a bit of an emotional moment to realise that I haven’t had any of her brownies since before Maddy died. Maybe even not since the kids were at uni.

“I’ll have to send her a text to thank her.” Then, registering the rest of Mak’s explanation, I shake my head. “You’re always welcome here, and you never have to ask whether you can come over.”

“I mean,” Trev looks between me and Oscar and smirks, “with this new dynamic, we probably should check you’re not, uh, otherwise indisposed before we just turn up on your doorstep.”

“A call from the airport would work,” Oscar tells him. “One of us would come get you.”

Trev shakes his head. “Nah, I always rent a car. I like being able to drive myself around.”

“Fair enough,” Oscar acknowledges.

“But, yeah, next time we’ll call when we’re on our way. Make sure you’re decent or, at the very least, at home.” His expression turns sheepish. “We’re used to Papa being a homebody these days, but I’m guessing that might be different now.”

“Eh,” Oscar shrugs. “On the weekends I’m here, we do tend to stay close to home anyway.”

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