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“A,” Rhett announced, picking up a J puzzle piece.
“That’s a J, sweetheart,” my mom corrected gently.
“We haven’t started working on letters yet,” Emilia confessed, shamefaced. “I should probably find him a preschool or something.”
“I’ll ask where Kara and Draco sent their girls,” Mom replied. “And we can get him signed up once he’s old enough.”
“Slow your roll, Heather,” I said immediately, making my mom stiffen. “We’ll find Rhett a preschool and take care of it ourselves. He’s two. He doesn’t need to know his letters yet. Pretty sure Rumi was still puttin’ anything and everythin’ in his mouth at two.”
“It’s okay, Michael,” Emilia said quietly. “She’s just trying to help.”
I glanced at Emilia who still looked embarrassed, then back at my mom.
“Of course,” my mom said contritely. “Though Rumi was arguably the least intelligent of the five of you. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“We know that,” Emilia said quickly.
“Just let us figure it out, yeah?” I asked, reaching out to tug at my mom’s ponytail. “And I’m tellin’ Rum you said that.”
“Sorry, babe,” she said with a half-smile. “Rumi called me old yesterday—you can tell him whatever you want.”
“It’s really okay—” Emilia’s mouth snapped shut when I sent her a look to cool it.
“I can text Kara,” I told my mom. “See what school they used.”
“I just know they really liked it,” my mom said, her shoulders relaxing.
We stayed in the living room, hanging out while Rhett and my mom did the same alphabet puzzle at least four times. It was easy and goddamncozy, and after a while I felt my body relaxing into the couch as I dozed off.
“Daddy.” A little hand tapped my knee. “Daddy!”
“What’s up?” I asked, my eyes shooting open. Shit,Iwasdaddy.
“Time go.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, watching as Rhett pulled his blanket against his face. “It’s time to go?”
“Yeah.”
“You ready to go back to the house?” I asked as he leaned against my knee.
“Gran tired.”
“Grandma’s tired?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning more heavily against my knee.
I didn’t think it was my mom who was tired.
“Where did your mama go?” I asked curiously.
“Gran’s room.”
“I wonder what they’re getting,” I said, reaching out to lift him onto my lap. I didn’t go slowly or anything like that, but I was hyper-vigilant as I picked him up, making sure he didn’t mind it.
My chest felt like it was going to pop the buttons on my flannel as he curled into a question mark against me, his head on my shoulder.
“Don’t know,” he replied sleepily.
