Page 74 of After the Rain

"What makes food exciting?" Ezra asked, genuinely curious.

"Shapes! Colors! Maybe some explosions."

"Explosions?" I raised an eyebrow. "In your cereal?"

"Pop Rocks cereal would be awesome," Cooper said dreamily. "Every bite would be like fireworks in your mouth."

"That sounds like a recipe for chaos," Ezra observed.

"The best kind of chaos," Cooper replied with seven-year-old wisdom.

Watching them together—my son and the man I loved debating the explosive potential of breakfast foods—felt like glimpsing the future I'd never dared to imagine. This was what family looked like when it was built on love and laughter instead of obligation.

"Can Mr. Mitchell come to the science museum with us?" Cooper asked through a mouthful of non-explosive cereal.

"That's up to Mr. Mitchell," I said, catching Ezra's amused expression over my coffee mug.

"I think that could be arranged," Ezra replied. "But you'll have to promise to teach me about dinosaurs."

"I know everything about dinosaurs," Cooper declared with absolute confidence. "Did you know that T-Rex had tiny arms but could lift five hundred pounds?"

"Five hundred pounds with tiny arms?" Ezra looked skeptical. "That seems physically impossible."

"It's science, Mr. Mitchell. You can't argue with science."

"Fair point. What else do you know?"

"Velociraptors were actually only about the size of chickens, but movies make them big because little dinosaurs aren't scary enough for grown-ups."

"So Hollywood has been lying to us about dinosaur sizes?"

"Basically, yeah. Grown-ups lie about a lot of stuff to make it more exciting."

I nearly choked on my coffee. "Thanks for that wisdom, Cooper."

"You're welcome, Daddy."

Our first officialdate night exceeded every expectation. The drive to Romano's—thirty minutes away from Cedar Falls—felt like escaping to another world where we could just be Wade and Ezra instead of the divorced dad and the teacher everyone was watching.

About ten minutes in, Ezra turned slightly toward me in the passenger seat, his voice quiet. “Hey… who’s with Cooper tonight?”

I glanced at him, a small smile tugging at my mouth. “Kane and Jazz are tag-teaming. Kane’s got bedtime duty—his routines are military-grade—and Jazz is staying over, just in case. Between the two of them, he’s probably having a better night than we are.”

Ezra nodded, visibly relaxing, but I could tell it wasn’t about doubt. It was about care.

“You know,” he said gently, “if you ever needed to cut a night short, I’d get it. No hard feelings.”

I looked over at him, the streetlights casting soft shadows on his face. “I know. That’s part of why I’m here. Because you’d mean it.”

Inside the restaurant, my hand found the small of Ezra’s back as the host led us to our table. “I can’t remember the last time I went on an actual date,” I admitted.

“Well, you’re in luck, because I’m an excellent date,” Ezra said, leaning into my touch in a way that made my pulse quicken.

The hostess seated us at a quiet corner table with soft lighting and enough privacy to make it feel like the rest of the world had faded. Across the candlelit table, I couldn’t stop staring—at the way the flame caught the gold in Ezra’s hair, how his blue eyes seemed to glow in the warmth, and how lucky I felt, just being here with him.

"You're not even looking at the menu," Ezra observed, amused.

"I'm looking at something better," I said, reaching across to take his hand.

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