“Mrs. Shaw, it’s a pleasure.”
She scrunches her face up. “Please. It’s Ani and Travis. NoMr. and Mrs. in this house.” She opens her arms, but waits for me to nod before pulling me into a hug. As Raffi’s dad does the same, Raffi places Wyatt on the floor.
“Mayrik, Dad, this is my...” He swallows, his eyes glassy, and his chest heaving with effort as he sucks in slow breaths. “This is Wyatt.” His voice breaks on our son’s name, cracking something in my chest. He could have called himself Wyatt’s father, I wouldn’t have been mad, but I appreciate him taking a little more time to use the term in front of the little man. Just in case things don’t work out, or in case it makes me uncomfortable, either way.
Both Raffi’s parents crouch down to Wyatt’s level, smiles warm, respecting his distance. It must be so hard for them not to rush him, pick him up, and squish him until he squirms, but they’re patient and quiet. Their efforts to not overwhelm him aren’t lost on me, and it occurs to me Raffi might have prepped them not to go full grandparent all at once.
Wyatt hasn’t called Raffi daddy yet, he might never, and Raffi’s okay with that. But he knows Raffi is his dad, we told him this morning before we came to Raffi’s parents’ house. I’m not sure he fully understands yet. We’re letting Wyatt decide what to do with that information and not encouraging him or leading him one way or the other.
“Hi, Wyatt,” Ani looks like she might explode with excitement, but she keeps herself under wraps. “I’m Ani.” She flicks her gaze up at me like she’s seeking validation she’s doing okay, so I give her a reassuring nod. “And this is Travis.”
When Wyatt doesn’t move, I crouch down next to him, patting his back in slow circles. “These are Raffi’s parents. Ani is Raffi’s mama, and Travis is Raffi’s daddy.”
He looks at Raffi, then back at his grandparents. “Like nana?”
I nod at him. “Just like nana.” I turn to Ani. “Did you think of what you’d like for him to callyou?”
Ani’s face lights up like I just gave her a lifetime supply of her favorite candy. “Grandma and pawpaw? Is that okay?” Her uncertainty, the insecurity in her voice, makes me want to hug her. “Or Mayrik, like Raffi calls me? Too complicated? I don’t want to overwhelm him.”
“Of course. Wyatt, can you say Mayrik and pawpaw?”
He parrots it back to me while I point between Ani and Travis. When they stand, they maintain distance.
“He’s not allergic to anything, right?”
I shake my head.
“Can I give him a juice box?” She’s speaking in a hushed whisper, but Wyatt’s little face turns to me with gleeful hope in his eyes.
“He’s at his grandparents’ house.” I shrug, giving her a smile. “I fully expect you to give him all kinds of things he might not ordinarily have.”
The glint in her eye sparkles as she beams at me.
“It’s the nature of grandparents, right?”
She nods, biting on her bottom lip.
“Thank you for asking, though.”
“I have chocolate.” She’s stage whispering, but this time it feels more for Wyatt’s benefit.
Travis winks. “Wyatt might not like chocolate, Mayrik.”
Her face brightens at the word Mayrik. The joy our child is already bringing to these people warms my heart. It grows even stronger when he takes Ani’s outstretched hand and walks with her into the kitchen.
Tiny traitor, sold out for the promise of some chocolate and a juice box. I can’t deny there’s a pang of something sharp in my chest as he walks away from me.
Raffi pulls me to his chest, planting a kiss on my forehead. He doesn’t call me ridiculous, or say I’m overreacting. He doesn’t laugh, he just stands stoic, quietly supportive, as my toddler follows his grandparents into the kitchen to embrace the impending sugar high.
CHAPTER 36
Victoria
Ihate hockey.
The more I watch it, the more I hate it.
The ball of dread lying heavy in my stomach isn’t helping. Every time Raffi steps onto the ice, cold tendrils of fear curl around my spine. There’s a headache brewing behind my eyes from clenching my teeth so hard.
