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Laughing and rolling her eyes, she takes my hand and presses an exaggerated smooch to it. Aria and Ewan giggle.
“Can I show him my room now, Mom? He can play tea with my dolls.”
“First my room,” Ewan argues.
As Seraphina’s eyes meet mine, my heart skips a beat, easing the anxiety, but then it increases when she says, “Good luck keeping up with them, Ehrenberg.”
* * *
The day goes by fast and around five it’s time to prepare pizza. “Alright, who’s ready to make the best pizza ever?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as we gather in the cozy kitchen. “Let’s start with washing our hands.”
“Me first,” Aria and Ewan shout in unison, racing to wash their hands at the sink.
I help them roll up their sleeves so they won’t get dough everywhere. “First step—wash those hands super good!”
Seraphina watches us with a soft smile as she preheats the oven. I meet her gaze and blow her a kiss. She only smiles in response.
I’m grateful that Lucius had frozen dough in the freezer and marinara sauce too.
“Can I help stir the sauce?” Ewan asks, bouncing on his toes.
“Let’s put on our aprons first,” Seraphina suggests, taking them out of a drawer.
“You’re prepared for everything,” I say, impressed.
Sephie winks at me. “You learn.”
Soon, Ewan is helping me with the sauce while Aria and Sephie line up an assembly of toppings.
I show the twins how to knead the dough just right while Seraphina supervises nearby. And then she helps them place the sauce and topping on their pizzas. Soon, we’re loading them into the oven.
We high-five each other, the kids’ faces and clothes smeared with flour and sauce, and somehow, Ewan has mushrooms in his hair. I don’t know how that happened, but while we wait, Sephie takes them to change their clothes. In the meantime, I set up the table, glad that I didn’t give in to the fear, and go back to New York.
I’m not sure how the day is going to end, but I have to make a plan to be here often, so I can learn to be the man they deserve as their father.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Seraphina
From the kitchen window, I watch Aria and Ewan playing happily outside with their new toys—bikes, scooters, trucks, and even a giant pink dollhouse, all gifts from Brahms.
“You’re spoiling them already,” I remark as I stir a pot on the stove, arching an eyebrow at him.
“I wouldn’t call it spoiling,” Brahms protests with an innocent grin. “Ary clearly needed that pink dollhouse.”
I shake my head unamused. “You need to learn how to say no. What if they ask you for a pony?”
Brahms doesn’t miss a beat. “Then I’d have to ask if they prefer pony toys or plushies.”
“Ary won’t be satisfied with just a toy pony,” I point out. “She’ll ask for a real one next. What will you do then?”
“Not buy her one, of course,” Brahms says, giving me an ‘obviously’ look. “But then, I’ll follow Ewan’s suggestion and buy you a bigger house first.”
“That’s a hell no, B,” I state emphatically, pointing my knife at him. “That’s not taking it slow as you promised.”
“Whoa, it’s a joke, kind of.” Brahms puts his hands up in mock surrender.
“Don’t worry, I’m not actually suggesting we move in together yet. Just maybe get you a bigger place someday down the road.” Off my stern glare, he adds sheepishly, “But you’re right, I’m getting way ahead of myself.”
