Space it was. I steered the van back into traffic and drove home, away from the sun, and away from the sea. Our family was unconventional, too much for some, but we made our co-parenting unit work. The twins—mine and Evan’s, from before I started on T—loved the big sibling status Bethany and Evan’s kids gave them. Meanwhile, Charlie, Alex, and Ella took full advantage of having two dads and a mom. And an indulgent aunt in Tammy, my ex-wife and Bethany’s best friend, who had no kids of her own.
Mindful of giving Quinn space, there was no more sing-along. Instead, Julian entertained us all by reading from his newcomic, making me laugh as he adapted the less appropriate cursing into kid-safe versions.
I parked the van on Evan and Bethany’s drive—we’d been lucky to land adjacent semi-detached houses—and took the kids back to mine. Though I expected Quinn to go straight to their room, they joined the rest at the kitchen table as I poured them iced tea.
All eyes locked onto the snack tin Julian placed in front of him.
“Who wants to go first?” he asked with that familiar smirk.
“Snoopers crackle bar,” Charlie guessed, naming something she didn’t even like.
Alex scrunched up his face before blurting out, “Tishman’s Fishery fish sticks!”
It made everyone groan. It was his favorite.
“What?” he said. “It has to be right sometime.”
No chance. Not that the others didn’t love it. They did. For lunch. Not as a snack.
“What about you, Ella?” Julian asked.
Ella threw the tin an eager smile. “Maple fudge.”
Any fudge would do for Ella, or anything sticky that she could use to negotiate extra bath time.
Julian shook his head and shared a secret smile with Quinn as he opened the tin and revealed a stack of extra-large chocolate cookies—Quinn’s favorite—to excited cheers from the younger ones.
“Great choice.” And not just because they’d brought me one, too, since I loved them just as much as Quinn.
Silence fell as they enjoyed their tea and cookies. Quinn had taken their headphones off and sat at the end of the table, sneaking glances at the phone tray at the end of the counter.
“Everything okay, kiddo?” I asked as I slid into the seat next to theirs.
“Yeah, it was just a lot today.”
“We had a substitute teacher. He was awful,” Julian explained from the other side of the table. “Half the class thought it was funny to switch places. I like a practical joke, but they kept pushing until he snapped. Doubt we’ll be seeing him again.”
“Sounds rough. If you need to decompress, I’ll give you a pass on chores today.”
“No, I’m okay. Store was quiet enough, so I drew while Jules scoured comics.” They glanced at the tray again.
Something was definitely up. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure, Pop. Promise.” Quinn’s smile seemed less brittle. “Just eager to check out the Kaia Blue reels everyone’s talking about.”
Right. Their favorite podcaster. “You can have your phone once we’ve divided chores. Fifteen minutes.”
Quinn pouted. “Twenty?”
I raised my eyebrow. Usually, it was Julian begging for extra afternoon phone privileges. “All right.”
“Thanks, Pop.” They leaned into me for a half-hug. “I’ll take ten tomorrow.”
“Noted. Speaking of chores…” I looked around the table, ignoring the groans and protests. “Since there was no winner, I get to choose.”
More groans. “Ella, you can clear the table. Charlie and Alex can fluff the pillows and duvets and put them back on the beds. Quinn can cut the vegetables for the miso marinated chicken, and Julian?—”
“I promised the Masters at number 160 I’d mow their front lawn.”
