Page 19 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

Another eye-roll. “Dad, I’mtwelve.”

I raise my hands in surrender. “Sheesh, sorry. You driving us then?”

William grins. “You offering?”

I snort. “Uh, no. Absolutely not. The law says no driving until you’re sixteen, but I say no driving ever.”

“Let’s hear it for the law!” Barrett says, then dabs.

Seriously. The kiddabs. I don’t know if that means he’s way too cool for me or if he’s the nerdiest nerd that ever nerded.

But what can a dad do? If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

I dab too.

Every one of my children groans in unison.

“Thank you, thank you,” I say, offering little bows all around. “Now get in the car or there’ll be more of that.”

“My eyes!” Will cries, running for the garage.

Barrett is right on his heels. “Think of the children!”

Elizabeth follows, but more slowly, giving her time for yet another roll of the eyes. “Ew, Dad. Just . . . ew.”

“Your support means the world to me,” I answer with a smile and a pair of finger guns.

More groaning ensues, but a minute later all three triplets are buckled into the mini-van and we’re heading for the bookstore.

“Now, remember guys,” I begin, but Elizabeth immediately cuts me off.

“I’m not a guy. Gender-neutral pronouns please.”

I sigh. “Right. Sorry. My wonderful fellow humans and inheritors of my name —“

Even more groans. I’m totally hitting it out of the park with the dad stuff tonight.

I continue like I didn’t hear. “Tonight’s important for your mom, even if it’s lame for you. So please, do your best to act like you’re not bored out of your minds, even though you probably will be?”

I see Barrett salute through the rearview mirror, and Will says, “Got it.”

Elizabeth says, “I bet it won’t be that boring.” She pauses. “Will Mom be talking about sex?”

Barrett makes gagging sounds while Will giggles.

“Um,” I say, trying to focus on not killing us all via car accident while giving my daughter’s question the attention it deserves. “Maybe? I’m not sure what she’ll be reading tonight. I bet it won’t be all that racy, though, since she knows you’re coming.”

“Oh thank god,” Barrett mutters.

Quiet descends in the van as all three triplets turn to their phones. Ah, blissful silence. What a rare thing that has been these last nine years.

Nine years. I turn that phrase over in my head. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long since Hollis and I brought the triplets home — although some days it certainly feels like it’s been eons longer than just nine years. Particularly as we careen toward teenager land.

And if it’s been nine years with the triplets, that means it’s been ten years for us — me and Hollis.

Our courtship hadn’t lasted long. We’d married within months of our first time together on Hollis’s chaise lounge.

Hollis had continued with her return to college, quitting preschool teaching and fully enrolling to earn a degree in creative writing. She went on to complete the master’s level program and, when the triplets were finally out of diapers, she returned for the doctorate tract. Now she teaches my old class and writes sweepingly lyrical poetry that takes my breath away.

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