Sunny’s first instinct was to rush in with reassurances, to smooth over the complicated emotions. Instead, she took a breath and asked, “What did you tell her?”
Maddie looked up, a small smile playing at her lips. “I told her I’m not split in half. I told her I’m like a puzzle with more pieces.”
“A puzzle with more pieces,” Sunny repeated, warmth spreading through her chest. “That’s beautiful, Maddie.”
“Dad says family is like a team where everyone has a position. But I think it’s more like a puzzle.” Maddie closed the album, tracing the cover with her fingertips. “When Mom died, it was like pieces were missing. But then you came, and you brought new pieces. Different shapes, but they still fit.”
Sunny fought back tears. “That’s one of the wisest things I’ve ever heard.”
Maddie shrugged, embarrassed by the praise. “It’s just what I think.”
“Can I tell you something?” Sunny asked, her heart suddenly racing. She hadn’t planned this conversation — hadn’t planned to share her news with anyone but Liam first — but the moment felt right.
“Is it about the baby?”
Sunny blinked, caught completely off guard. “How did you—”
“You’ve been touching your stomach a lot. And you didn’t drink coffee this morning, just tea.” Maddie adjusted her position. “Also, you were looking at baby clothes online. I saw it when you left your laptop open yesterday.”
A surprised laugh escaped Sunny. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”
“Dad says Iget that from Mom.” Maddie tilted her head. “Are you worried about telling everyone?”
Sunny nodded, suddenly grateful for this precocious child who saw everything. “A little. After what happened last time…”
Maddie reached over and placed her small hand over Sunny’s. “It’ll be fine this time. I can feel it.”
“I hope so.” Sunny took a deep breath, steeling herself against the memory of that loss three years ago. “I haven’t even told your dad yet.”
“He’ll be happy,” Maddie said with absolute certainty. “Scared too, probably. But mostly happy.”
“When did you get so wise about grown-ups?”
“I listen.” Maddie shrugged again. “And I watch a lot.”
They sat like that for a long moment, the sounds of play from downstairs floating up to them, the afternoon sun warming their shoulders through the window.
The sound of childish laughter eventually drew Sunny downstairs, Maddie following close behind. She paused at the living room entrance, unable to contain her smile at the sight that greeted her.
Liam stood in the center of the room, hands on hips in mock sternness while Ethan bounced gleefully on the couch cushions, dark curls flying with each jump. Hailey sprawled on the carpet nearby, giggling as she watched her little brother’s rebellion.
“Ethan Robert Anderson,” Liam intoned, though his eyes sparkled with amusement, “couches are for sitting, not for—”
“Jumpy jumpy jumpy!” Ethan finished for him, punctuating the word with another enthusiastic bounce.
Sunny’s mind flashed back to the early days in this house — Liam scolding Maddie for this exact same offense, his face thunderous. How far they’d come from that broken, grief-shadowed family.
“What happens to little boys who jump on couches?” Liam asked, stepping closer.
Ethan’s eyes widened with delighted anticipation. “Monster Daddy comes!”
“That’s right!” In one swift movement, Liam scooped the squealing toddler into his arms, tickling him mercilessly. “Monster Daddy gets jumpy boys!”
Ethan’s peals of laughter filled the room as he squirmed in his father’s grasp. “Sorry, Daddy! Sorry!”
“Hmm, I think you need the upside-down punishment,” Liam declared, dangling the giggling child upside down as Hailey cheered him on.
Sunny leaned against the doorframe, contentment washing over her. The transformation in Liam still amazed her sometimes — from the grief-hardened man she’d first met to this playful father who knew how to guide with love rather than fear.
