Jason looks at his mother and then at me. “The one with all the meat on it.”
I ruffle his hair. “Meat lovers it is. Who else?”
By the time I’m done, I’ve got an order for three pizzas and sides, and the excited, beaming faces of these kids fills my heart with joy.
I tap the order into the app, pay for it, and drop onto the couch.
“Want to watch the progress?” I ask Jason. He nods happily, and I hand him my phone. “How about you tell me when they’re delivering.”
He grins, and I meet Emma’s tearful gaze.
Jason nestles in against me, and I wrap an arm around him.
“Thank you,” Emma mouths.
Bailey flounces into the room and sits on a chair opposite us. “How long is it going to be?”
“They’re making it now.” Jason points at the app, and I grin.
How good is this?
My gaze drifts to Noah in the doorway. His focus is on Jason by my side, and I swallow hard. This should have been us.
“Noah, come and join us.”
He shrugs and makes his way across the room to sit next to Bailey. He’s still unsure, and I don’t blame him. It’ll still take time to build trust, although I hope my actions today show him I’m serious.
Time. What we all need is time.
“You got a text,” Jason says.
“Did I? Let me see.”
I take the phone from his hand and smile. “It’s to say the delivery’s on the way. Want to track it?”
He nods, and I tap on the link before handing back the phone.
His face lights up again, and I know I’ve done the right thing.
These kids don’t belong to their father anymore. I’m the man who’ll step up for them, who’ll love them the way they should have been loved.
Emma drops onto the couch beside me, and I press a kiss to her temple.
We’ll get through this together.
“The best thing about pizza is that there’s not much clean up afterward,” Noah says. “You did good today, Dad. We never got pizza or anything like that growing up.”
I shake my head. “I get not wanting to do this all the time, but never?”
He washes the last dish and passes it to me. Emma wanted to take care of the washing up, but we both talked her into sitting down in front of a movie with the kids while we took care of it.
All we used were dinner plates, so it’s not like it’s a lot.
But it gives me a moment to talk to Noah, and those moments are precious.
“Malcolm was strict—more with me than any of the others. I worked out myself that I wasn’t his, although for a long time I thought it was just wishful thinking.”
I snort. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
