Page 374 of Branded
“Yup,” Ethan said, hugging the stuffed avocado he’d become attached to for some reason. “Because I have Grandpa Ace and then I have my other grandpa.”
“Joe,” I said, knowing at least that much.
“Yup.” Ethan nodded. “I have Grandpa Ace and Grandpa Joe.” A beat. “So is Grandpa Joe nice?”
The first part of that settled deep and warm in my heart.
The second wasn’t so easy.
“I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “I haven’t met him before.”
“Oh.” Silence for a few beats before Ethan whispered, “I hope he is.”
I sure as shit hoped so, too.
“Cas?”
“Yeah, bud?” I replied again.
“Are you going to be my dad forever?”
I froze, every muscle in my body going taut. Now talk about a question and a half. Silently, carefully, I inhaled, then just as silently, just as carefully, I released it. “Am I your dad now?” I asked softly.
“Yup.”
No hesitation.
No delay.
Just a pop on his p, accompanied by a vigorous nod.
Then Ethan went on. “You help me with my homework and tuck me into bed and watch movies with me and you showed me how to use the toaster. And we play hockey together and you drive me to school and pick me up sometimes and you watch me while Mom works.” His shoulders lifted and fell on a shrug. “That’s what dads do. So, yup”—another pop—“you’re my dad right now.”
I had spent the last couple of days fending off female sniffles and tears as Jules prepped to move, but fuck if I wasn’t one second away from losing it right there on the plane.
But I didn’t want what Ethan had just given me to get lost in that emotion.
“I love you, bud,” I said, slipping my arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “I’m glad I can do that stuff with you, and I will always do them with you, will always love you. Whether you call me Dad or not.”
A frown between Ethan’s brows. “But I can still call you Dad, right?”
“Absolutely.”
We could talk more about names and biology later.
But right then, Ethan needed a dad.
And right then, I needed to be a dad.
A dad fighting back sniffles again when Ethan looked up at me, smiled his mom’s smile, bright shining out of eyes that were just like his mom’s. “I love you, too.”
I cleared my throat, held Ethan closer. “And you know that Nonna JoJo and Grandpa Ace and Aunties Margot and Kathy and Uncles Tim and Sam do, too?”
“Yup.” A pop. “And I love them and Smitty and Raph and Theo and Mary and Hazel and Beth and Pru and—” He broke off, wrinkling his nose. “And Pru and Marcel’s babies are kind of scrunchy and cry a lot, but Mom says they’ll be fun when they get a little older, so I love them, too.”
Then, while I was reeling from all that bright, all that love a little boy felt, was cocooned in, and was thanking whoever was in the sky above that I’d had a small part in bringing that to Ethan and Jules, Ethan smiled, hugged his avocado, curled in, and fell asleep on my other shoulder.
And I knew.
