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“Burrito it is.”
I fumble with the sweats and the sheets, getting tangled but finally managing to pull them up over her legs and cinch them at the waist. All of it is huge on her but having her in our scents satisfies my omega. Cammie is so out of it she’s pliant, already half asleep. I add a pair of socks and get her under the covers again, tucking her in.
She’s beautiful, even like this.I lie beside her, my hand tracing back and forth along her cheek.
Her eyes flutter open, “Thank you, Finn.”
“Sleep now, baby. We’ve got it covered.” I kiss her forehead, careful of the goose egg from her fall, then force myself from the bed.
In the kitchen, I start chicken soup for Cammie and taco pie for dinner. I have no idea what the kids eat, but I figure tacos aren’t a wrong way to start any relationship.
After that, it’s an omega whirl of nesting fury. I install the other childproof locks I bought on our front and back doors. I fuss over the bunk beds upstairs in one of the guest rooms we have for my nieces and nephews, cursing myself for not having already thought ahead and gotten something special to welcome them into the house. I panic-text my sibling group thread, asking for a list of must-have items for kids. That ends with three of my sisters sending gifs, none of which are flattering representations of my current mental state.
Payton skips the text and calls.
“I can’t talk now. I’m panic-baking cookies.”
“I see. Set the phone down on the counter, put it on speaker, and breathe for me.”
Gods bless Payton. She doesn’t even laugh at my meltdown. There’s a reason why she runs a preschool and daycare center. If it was my sister Riley, this conversation would be recorded.
I do as she instructs, smearing cookie dough on the screen during the process.“Why didn’t I already get a booster seat? And toys? Hello? My newest mate is a mother, which means I need to up my game. I spent my time farting around making subpar raspberry tarts for days when I could have been busy preparing.”
From his bed, Waffles watches me dance around the kitchen, yawning and unamused at the disturbance I’m causing.
My sister’s voice holds an edge of amusement. “Slow down, Finney. That would have been weird and totally creepy. The most important part is making the kids feel safe. They’re not gonna care about the other stuff. Kids look at people’s hearts. Show them yours, and it’s gonna be fine.”
I take a deep breath and grab a chunk of cookie dough, rolling it into a ball before placing it on the tray. The repetition of the motion is soothing, like when I’m holding my lathe in the woodshed or my paintbrush in the studio. Some of the overwhelming urge to turn my house into a new nesting project for the kids settles. I know Payton is right, but I also want to make sure they feel wanted in our home, with elements that make them comfortable.
It’s got to be weird for them to come here, especially when their mom won’t be the go-between to ease their stay in a new place. I want to get to the part where we’re a family already, but deep down, I know I can’t skip the steps.
“Emmaline left with Reid a few minutes ago, which means you have five minutes to pull yourself together,” Payton reminds me gently.
“Okay. I can do this. I’m awesome with kids.” I psyche myself up.
This time, Payton does laugh. “Welcome to parenthood, Finney. It’s ninety-five percent sheer terror that you’re already fucking it up and five percent delusions of grandeur that talk you into thinking you’ve got this.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.” I put the pan in the oven and stare at the mess I’ve made in the kitchen. Oops. “I have to go. My kitchen looks like it was attacked by rabid squirrels.”
“Honestly, Finn, that’s normal. You should see our kitchen right after a pack dinner. You’ll get the hang of it.” Payton chuckles. “Night!”
Waffles makes another disgruntled snort and trots off toward my nest. Traitor. Even though I want to go snuggle her too, I get to work on the dishes.
Chapter 11
Reid
In the kitchen, Emmaline makes pies from a ball of homemade playdough Finn made for her to play with while he finishes cooking dinner. Em pretends it’s disgusting pie, and Finn takes overly dramatic bites, raving about how delicious worms are because of their filling. It’s possibly the most disgusting-adorable conversation I’ve ever heard.
I refocus, leaning over to check Ben’s math problem. Cammie asked that we send them both to school today, wanting to keep their routine as much as possible. That resulted in a mound of make-up work from him leaving early the day before. We’ve been working through his homework at the kitchen table for almost an hour, and even my brain is tired.
One internet video search and an entire eraser later, and I think we’re closer to getting him caught up. The reading and social studies questions were easy, but it’s been a long time since I looked at fifth-grade math.
“Almost. Go back. Remember, when you divide fractions, you ‘keep, change, flip.’”
Ben reworks the problem, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth in concentration.
After the initial questions he raised about his mom being in our bed, he’s gone quiet. When we got home last night, he listened but didn’t say anything when Finn and I set them down to explain what was happening and to answer questions. Emmaline asked enough questions for the two of them until she tuckered herself out. He checked on his mom and helped get his sister ready for bed.
