Page 52 of Tusk's Fury

I give a sigh, my kids shouldn’t have to worry about adult shit. “Your mom knows that we aren’t getting back together. But whatever happens, you are my boys and nothing’s gonna keep me away from you, okay?”

He looks uncertain, so I give his hair a ruffle. “Okay, champ?”

“Okay, Dad,” he says with a smile.

His younger brothers are silent but listening with interest.

Looking at each of them, I ask, “How do you feel about having a little sister?”

Jack speaks up first. “It’s great. We can get into fights to help her, and the grown-ups won’t even get mad.”

“That’s mostly right, but we’ll need to talk about the details, okay?”

He nods and starts doing his fake hopscotch moves backward.

Turning to Roan, I say, “Time to weigh in, little buddy. What do you think about having a sister?”

He shrugs. “Do we have to play girl games?”

“Babies don’t play games, but doing girly things occasionally is part of having a sister.”

He tries to nail me down on the specifics. “Occasionally means almost never, right?”

“Look,” I tell him. “There are four of you. As far as I’m concerned, you can take turns. As long as your sister is happy, you’re not gonna get in trouble with me.”

I close my mouth and let the implication sink in—if she’s not happy, therewillbe trouble.

My two youngest are only four and six. Suddenly, the six-year-old, Robbin, perks up. “We teach her boy games. She play with us.”

His grammar’s all messed up, but I get what he’s saying.

“Don’t make her play boy games. She has towantto do it.”

When the smile drops right off his face, I know he doesn’t think that’s very likely.

“Right now, she doesn’t play games. We’ll have to wait until she’s older to know what she likes. You’re all big brothers, and just like you take care of each other, I want you to take care of your sister.”

They all nod, looking kinda okay with having a sister.

“You ready to meet Brittany and your little sister, properly?”

All I get is a bunch of nods, and for today, that’s good enough.

We walk back over to the picnic table where Brittany is sitting, and they all crowd around. Thankfully, she’s finished feeding our daughter.

Brittany smiles. “Hi. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time, I hope we can have fun today.”

Jack looks her up and down again, no doubt wondering whether to mention her ten-foot long legs or not, I give him a warning glance. Instead he says, “You gonna marry our daddy?”

Brittany almost chokes on her juice.

Before I can say anything, Robbin chimes in, “You got candy on you?”

Charlie’s eyes light up at that—my four-year-old has a seriously sweet tooth.

Brittany shakes her head. “Sorry, but no. All I have is fruit.”

They lose interest in that real fast.

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