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“Hale,”Ivy scowls at me. One hand is on her hip as she mock glares at me across the living room. “He does not need another six-foot teddy bear.”

Ollie, who is sitting smugly on her hip, grunts his agreement. The little traitor.

“No kid has ever been spoiled because they had too many stuffed animals,” I grump right back at her and place the newest fuzzy addition to our family on the couch next to Morton. That cat has no love for me. He hisses at me whenever I come too close, but he adores Ollie. The two of them like playing together when they’re on the floor, and I suspect they’re well on their way to becoming lifelong friends.

It’s been a week of having Ivy here in my space, and it’s been the best week of my life. She and Ollie have made everything click into place. Before, I spent my days in an endless cycle of work, wandering from one lonely day to the next. Now, I can’t wait to get off work because I know I’m coming home to the two most important people in the world and one very ornery cat.

I take in her paint-stained clothes and that spot of yellow paint on her cheek and give her a grin. “I told you I was going to help with that.”

The paint color she wanted for the nursery came in yesterday, and we agreed to work on it together this weekend.

“I couldn’t wait,” she says. “Besides, Ollie was having fun too.”

It took me three hours to find a paint brand that I was comfortable with. Once Ivy chose the color, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t bringing anything toxic into the house. Now that I have the two people I care about the most in the whole world, I want to protect them from everything, including killer paint fumes.

Ivy rolled her eyes when I said that, but she went along with it and let me order the paint which was nearly a hundred dollars a gallon. It seems it should cost less to make healthier life choices, which had me researching how to start my own home goods store.

“Are you mad?” She asks softly.

“Never,” I promise as I stride across the room. I pull her into my arms and press a kiss to her lips. “Never mad at you.”

Ollie grunts, wanting to be acknowledged.

I chuckle. “Or you, big guy.”

I take him from her arms and bounce him.

He babbles excitedly to me, and it strikes me that since Ivy has come into our lives, he seems to be growing by leaps and bounds. Before he had trouble lifting his head, now he does it with ease.

Ivy spends hours on the floor with him every day, practicing strengthening his core muscles. I suspect he’ll begin crawling soon.

I’ve already prepared for that by baby-proofing the entire cabin. The cabinets have safety locks. The sockets have covers now. The toilet has a weird thing on it that won’t let me lift the seat easily. It’s crazy how dangerous my home looks through my eyes now.

“Come see what we’ve done.” She gestures for me to follow her.

I smile when I see the little handprints on the wall from where she’s had Ollie’s help. They’re about halfway done with the room. “Seems you two have been hard at work.”

“And I do believe that our hard work has earned us a break,” she answers as she reaches for Ollie.

She takes a seat in the rocking chair and settles him with a bottle. She’s insisted that the three of us eat breakfast together, and she gives him baby cereal. He doesn’t do much with it besides stick his hands in the bowl and play with it.

I tried to show him the correct way to eat. She shook her head and told me to let him play and learn about the texture.

“The eating will come in time,” she reassured me.

Ivy is great with kids, and I can’t wait until we have a house full of our own. I know based on the research I’ve done that we may have fertility issues to contend with at some point. But I also know there are a million ways to grow a family.

While he enjoys his meal, I pick up the paint roller and resume the work. I chat with Ivy about our days. She tells me about how much Ollie enjoyed story time and the library. I tell her that I’m thinking of promoting Susie.

“The community manager?” She asks.

“I know she’s doing good work. Since I hired her, we’ve increased revenue by twenty percent. She’s helped me see the gym can be more than a place for citizens to work out. It can be where our community gathers.”

My original goal was to build a chain of gyms and eventually offer the option to franchise them. Now I’m thinking that I can create community-centric gyms. Maybe I’ll model them after the one right here in Courage.

“Why didn’t you have a community manager before?” She asks.

“I made the position up on the spot when I found her sleeping in the women’s bathroom,” I admit. My dad always told me I wouldn’t succeed in business because I’m too soft. I believe that being a leader doesn’t mean crushing others. It means raising them up.

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