Always sleepy and cuddly.
The exact opposite of Rex, who was hell on wheels, even at four months old.
I dreaded the days when he learned how to move around on his own.
Wendy picked up the iPad and turned it around. “Dad says hi!”
I waved at Mackey.
He wasn’t better.
He wasn’t worse, either, which was a good thing.
He was perpetually eleven in an adult male’s body.
But the good thing was, he knew his girl.
And though he may not know the extent of his relationship to her, he knew that she was someone close to him.
Wendy loved her dad.
Which was why she’d never call me dad.
But that was okay.
This worked for all of us.
Even though I thought of her as my own daughter.
“All right,” Wendy said. “Love you!”
After they hung up, Wendy turned to her mother. “Dad says hi.”
Constance smiled. “I know, I talked to him for a bit before I came down here.”
I squeezed her hand.
It was so hard for her to see her best friend in that state, but she talked to him once a week like clockwork because she loved him.
Rex woke up with a scream, and I reached for him, too.
Our boy was pissed when he woke up and saw the sun.
“Swear to Christ,” Constance sighed as she handed him over. “He acts like the sun is going to kill him.”
I grinned. “Go play with your girl. She’s been dying to find shells with you.”
Constance and Wendy left, and I watched them go, a rightness to the moment that I’d never dared to dream of having.
“Hey, I found that one!” Constance teased Wendy.
“No, I did!” Wendy shook her head.
“I gave birth to you, so I win.”
Wendy threw up her hands. “That was one time!”
A yell came from farther down the beach, and I looked over and my heart caught in my throat.
