Page 97 of Love in Mission City
Cullen smiled. “You’re not.”
“I am.” I offered up the protest. “You don’t know how I feel.”
“Sure I do. You think youshouldbe nervous.”
We stood at his front door. I’d driven my SUV behind his old car to his rental house. He really needed something safer to drive.You’re procrastinating. “I’m meeting your kids for the first time.”
The house was a simple bungalow in a decent neighborhood. The garden was a little overgrown. The driveway was a little uneven. But a welcome wreath hung on the door.
“They’re going to love you.”
“You don’tknowthat.” I drew in a sharp breath and let it out slowly.
“Gil?”
My gaze shot to his.
“I love you.”
My heart melted.
“The kids will love you.”
God, I hoped he was right. This morning, over pancakes, he’d wanted to plan out our future. I tried to protest we had all the time in the world. He’d argued, rightly, that tomorrow wasn’t promised. Then he’d wiggled his sore ass and said he couldn’t wait to fuck every night.
Yeah, like that hadn’t perked me right up.
The front door opened, and the mirror image of Cullen, in the form of a beautiful woman, smiled. “You must be Gil.”
“Daddy!”
Before I could answer, a dark-brown-haired child launched herself across the threshold.
Cullen scooped her up. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Where’s your brother?”
“I’m here.” A young man, the spitting image of Cullen as I imagined him as a young boy, stepped up. “Who are you?”
“My name is Gil. I’m a friend of your dad’s.”
“Cool. I’m Drew. My sister’s Cathy.”
Poleaxed, I stood stock still. Cathy named after Catherine. That made sense. But Drew?
My gaze shot to Cullen. “Andrew,” he said with a smile. “Catherine’s suggestion.”
They’d named their son after me? I blinked, not quite certain how to take in that news.
Cathy held her arms wide. “Hug.”
I’d expected the kids to be shy and wary of strangers, especially one who didn’t look like them. Gil later pointed out they had plenty of people of color in their lives, and Mission City’s diversity was one of the reasons he was happy to move here.
A month later, he and the kids moved in with me.
Two months later, my grandfather gave up the fight and moved into the basement we’d converted into a one-bedroom apartment.To be close to his grandkids.
My mother spoiled the kids rotten, and Christmas was a raucous affair.
The next year we adopted a little Black girl with special needs.
Our family overflowed with love and laughter.
And I couldn’t have been happier.
