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“How come you didn’t go to Canada with him?”

I smiled. “Because I had just started my job as a doctor and my life was here.” I thought our life was here, but Ferguson wanted something else.

“How come he didn’t want to meet me?”

That was an impossible question for a mother to answer. Ferguson wasn’t a bad man, but he was a bad father. It was time for a geography lesson. I pulled out my phone and brought up a map of Canada. “He lived in Toronto which is here and we live here.”

“That’s far.”

I nodded. “Exactly. He had already gone home when I found out you were growing in my belly, he didn’t want to come back.” For either of us.

“That sucks,” he growled.

“Language,” I shot back automatically. “But yes, it did.”

Titus picked up another fry and dunked it harder than he needed to, an easy way to expel some frustration. “I have Ryan and he’s a great dad.”

“That’s where you’re a lucky little boy.”

“I’m a big boy, Mom.”

“You’ll always be my little boy, even when you’re taller and bigger than me. Even on your wedding day, you’ll be my little boy.”

“Ew, I’m not having a wedding.”

“Perfect. That means you can live with me forever.”

His eyes grew wide. “We can play Mario Kart and have date nights every week!”

I smiled and shook my head, wishing I could slow time down so he would never grow into a kid too cool to hang out with his mom. It was inevitable and I tried to cherish every special moment like this because I knew it wouldn’t last forever. “Sounds good to me. Just remember this night when you’re older.”

He giggled and picked up another piece of his burger with a hungry smile. “I will.”

As I took in my son, happy and excited for the simple things in life, I had to wonder if this conversation about Ferguson, given his recent calls, was all a coincidence or the universe trying to tell me something.

I shook off those thoughts, postponing them for a later time. “Cookie pie for dessert?”

“Really?”

I nodded. “Just one and we’ll split it.”

“Okay,” he sighed, slightly deflated by my answer. “We can share.”

I sighed dramatically and shook my head.

“What’s wrong Mom?”

“Nothing, just that my little boy is becoming a big boy.”

Titus smiled and I felt my heart swell in my chest, my love for him so strong that I cursed Ferguson, for the thousandth time, for walking away so easily.

Ryan

“I brought cookies,” Rosie’s sweet voice boomed across the backyard that was filled with my friends and the scent of barbecue. “What did you bring Titus?”

“I’m helping Ryan man the grill,” he said with a hint of authority as he repeated the words I said to him earlier. “Mom brought pasta salad with green stuff.” Titus groaned and Rosie added her own sounds of disapproval to the chorus.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a nice day for an impromptu barbecue and everyone had showed up. “What’s the reason for this little get together?” Teddy stood in the kitchen with her arms folded, eyes fixed on me suspiciously.

“It’s a nice day to cook meat over an open fire. Do I need another reason?”

“No,” she answered, eyes narrowed to slits. “I was just curious if you and Persy would be making any special announcements today.”

I frowned at her at first, but slowly I smiled. Her response told me that Persephone had talked to her friends about me. About us. “None that I’m aware of, Teddy. Sometimes a cookout is just a cookout.”

“Hmph. I brought ice and napkins. Ice is in the cooler and napkins are on the table outside.”

“Thanks.” I gathered the platter of meat Persephone had seasoned and arranged earlier, along with my special barbecue sauce, and followed Teddy into the backyard.

Antonio was on his feet, smiling as he met me at the grill. “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s in the sauce?”

“Leave it alone,” Gus told him with an affectionate eyeroll.

I shrugged and waved off her concern. “You have all but two ingredients. Can’t the Bad Boy Chef figure it out?”

“I could, but victory would be so much sweeter if you just told me the missing ingredients.”

“And that’s exactly why I won’t.”

Antonio growled his disapproval and set a cold beer beside the sauce. “You can have this anyway,” he grunted and walked away.

“Thanks for giving me one of my own beers,” I called after him.

“Ryan, thanks for the invite!” All conversation stopped when Gavin stepped into the backyard, dressed normally for once in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, but the man knew how to draw attention. “I brought tequila and limes, hope that’s all right.” His gaze landed warily on Rosie and Titus.

“They can’t have any, obviously.” Suzie relieved Gavin of his limes. And the tequila. “But this is appreciated.”

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