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“I believe I’m in your spot, Ronan,” Mama said with a smile. She set August down and stood up, giving Ronan’s hand a short squeeze.
Ronan sat on the floor with August and me, still looking a little shell-shocked.
“He’s all you,” he said.
“Not all me,” I said. “He’s got a lot of you in him.”
August studied Ronan with his big brown eyes, solemnly. “Mama, who dat?”
“Do you remember how I said your daddy had to be away for a long time?”
He nodded.
“Well, he’s home now. What do you think of that?”
August considered this. “Daddy home now,” he said, more curious than wary.
“I’ll stay somewhere else,” Ronan said to me. “Take it slow.”
I hated the thought, but he was right. And the fact that Ronan was already doing right by his son…
My poor heart isn’t going to make it through this day.
Ronan cleared his throat and picked up the picture book. “You reading this book? Hey, that’s a lot of trucks.”
August studied his father for a moment more, and then my heart nearly burst when he toddled over to him and situated himself on his lap.
From the couch, Mama clapped a hand to her mouth.
“Truck!” August said, pointing at a yellow dump truck on a page of trains, cars, and construction vehicles.
“And what’s this?” Ronan asked, his finger on a freight train.
“Train!” August said. “Dis a firetruck,” he said, pointing. “An’ dis right here, dis a race car.”
“Sure is.” Ronan looked at me, his eyes full. “Smart kid.”
They finished the picture book and moved on to a book about a grouchy caterpillar, and then Bibi announced from the kitchen that it was dinner time. The scents of beef stroganoff and warm bread filled the house.
“You ready for dinner, little man?” I asked.
August nodded and held his arms up for me. I picked him up as Ronan got to his feet, and the three of us stood for a moment together. August’s chubby fist wrapped around a handful of my braids, his large eyes still on Ronan. Then he put his hand on Ronan’s cheek.
“Dis my daddy,” he said like a proclamation.
Ronan and I looked at each other.
“Now it’s official.” I smiled through tears. “Guess you’re stuck with us.”
“Guess I am,” he said and smiled back—the real, genuine smile I’d been waiting years to see. So beautiful. So much him…
“You’re staying for dinner, right, Ronan?” Bibi asked, then snorted and muttered to herself. “What am I saying? Of course he is.”
“Stay,” I whispered. “For always.”
He leaned in and kissed me softly. “For always.”
I closed my eyes, letting the bliss wash over me, filling in all my broken pieces, making me whole.
