Page 98 of Single Mom's Christmas Wish

“You’re a good friend, Chelsea, the best. Don’t ever doubt it.”

She gives me a curious look. “So, what are you going to do about this?”

“Actually, I’m going to need your help.”

A smile tests the corners of my mouth, and it soon evolves into a full-blown grin. Chelsea frowns with understandable confusion, and I reach across the table, grabbing one of the cookies from the plate.

“What do you need?” she sighs, her shoulders dropping slightly.

“I need to make a few calls first,” I say to Chelsea. “But I’ll need you to bring Dakota up to the beach first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll text you the details.”

I meetmy brothers at home later that evening.

“Did you get it?” I ask Reed as soon as I walk through the door.

He holds up a large manila envelope, a smile lighting him up from the inside. I snatch the envelope from his hand and rip it open, eagerly flipping and ripping through the pages until I see the judge’s official signature and the courtroom stamp with today’s date. My heart leaps with joy, but then fear quickly takes over, tightening around my throat like a noose from hell.

“It’s now or never,” Reed says.

I give him and Maddox a worried look. “What do you guys think? Are we really ready for this?”

“You’re asking now, after we got the decision?” Maddox raises an irritated eyebrow. “We’ve been ready for this since the kid first walked through the door.”

“We’re ready,” Reed states. “We’ve been doubting ourselves for long enough, Archer. Personally, I’m tired of this limbo. And the girls need us to come through for them.”

“You’re right,” I mutter. “Trevor!”

The three of us stay silent as we hear a door open upstairs. “Yeah?” Trevor tentatively replies. My heart’s pounding.

“Want to come downstairs for a minute? We need to talk,” I say. He doesn’t reply, instead making his way down the stairs with slow, cautious footsteps. I give him a big, reassuring smile as he reaches us. “Hey, buddy.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks. “Did you find Dakota? Is Maisie all right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. We just want to talk to you about something,” I say, urging him to join us in the living room. My brothers and I take the couch, letting Trevor sit in the armchair to our left as I take the papers out and leave them on the coffee table for him to read. “This came from the judge today.”

“What is it?” he mumbles, suspiciously eyeing the first page as he picks up the small stack of papers.

“The court’s approval to file for your adoption,” Reed says.

Trevor stills with the front page under his nose, fingers tightening their grip on the paper. Slowly, he looks up at us, and I can see the caramel shade of his eyes twinkle with something I’m not sure of. Is he excited? Scared? Angry? This kid can be so hard to read sometimes.

“Trevor, we’ve been so happy and so proud to be your temporary dads,” I say. “It broke our hearts to lose your mom and dad, but we got you. And we promised, from the moment we picked you up from Social Services, that you would always have a home with us.”

He nods once. “Thank you.”

“We’re ready, kid. We’re ready to officially be your dads from now on,” I add. “Of course, only one of us will be listed as the adoptive parent in the official documents, but you know you’re getting three for the price of one, right?”

Trevor doesn’t react. He just stares at us. I’m starting to think this wasn’t the greatest idea. Or maybe that’s just the panic testing me. I look at Maddox and Reed. They both give me slight nods of approval, quietly urging me to keep going.

I had a whole speech prepared for this moment, but I can’t find the words.

“We love you like a son and raising you has been an honor and a joy. Sure, we’ve had our bumps in the road along the way. We have a lot to learn still, but we’re doing our best. And we would like the opportunity to keep doing our best, to keep learning how to be the best dads, to give you everything that you need. If you want us.”

“Do you want us, Trevor?” Reed asks, shooting straight for the bull’s-eye.

It feels like the longest and most agonizing forever before Trevor sets the papers down and lets a heavy sigh roll from his chest. Finally, I understand the twinkle in his eyes. Tears, tiny tears of love and relief as he quivers like a willow in the wind.

“You’re the only family I have now. The best family I’ll ever have,” the kid says, choking up a bit. “I thought you were calling me downstairs to tell me I’m being put up for adoption or something.”

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