Page 34 of From Maybe to Baby

"She's our friend now," Jace protests, still staring at the photo Alexa took of her.

"And what does Miss Minty get out of this friendship?" I ask, trying to teach a lesson about give and take.

"We can teach her how to cannonball." Lukas bounces with inspiration.

"Pretty sure that's what got us into this situation in the first place," Alexa reminds them, but it goes right over their heads.

"Then we can teach you how to make Daddy's special pancakes. And how to do hockey cheers. And?—"

"How about we start by letting Miss Minty do her job?" I suggest, noting how she keeps glancing at her notebook, probably thinking about deadlines.

"But—"

"No buts. She's got work to do, and you've got swim lessons in ten minutes."

Their disappointed faces would break a lesser person. But Alexa straightens her professional mask. "Tell you what—I need to observe some swim lessons for my article. Maybe I'll see you there?"

"Yay,” Jace hollers.

"Can't write about family activities without seeing them in action, right?"

I catch Alexa's eye. "Sorry about that. They can be a bit..."

"Enthusiastic?"

"I was going to say pushy, demanding, and downright manipulative.'"

She takes off her bucket hat and shakes out her hair, with no idea what she’s doing to me. "They're good kids."

"They're the best kids," I agree. "But they're also tiny emotional hurricanes who don't understand boundaries."

"Unlike their father?"

"I always understand boundaries," I say with complete seriousness. "I just choose to ignore them sometimes."

Her laugh catches us both off guard.

"Swim lessons," she reminds me, recovering her professional tone.

"Swim lessons," I agree, trying to ignore how well she fits into our lives.

The thingabout kids is they have absolutely no filter and even less subtlety. Which is why I'm currently trying not to choke as Lukas announces to the entire pool area, "Daddy, Miss Minty has pretty eyes like Mommy."

Alexa, who's been attempting to maintain admirable professional distance while taking notes about the resort's swim program, freezes mid-sentence. The mom squad in the corner stops their conversation to stare. Even the swim instructor pauses his demonstration.

"Inside voice, buddy," I manage, but the damage is done.

"But it's true." He's using his inside voice now, which means only half the pool can hear him. "Remember the blue picture? The one where Mommy's laughing? Miss Minty laughs too.”

I risk a glance at Alexa, who's gripping her notebook like it's a protective shield. Her professional mask slips just enough for me to catch something that looks like panic.

Shit, shit, shit.

"The swim instructor is demonstrating kicking," she says pointing, turning a page with perhaps more force than necessary. "Very important for the article."

But Lukas, having discovered his new favorite topic, is undeterred. "And she's pretty like Mommy too. Right, Daddy? That's why you keep looking at her when she's writing."

Some of the mothers sigh.

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