Page 93 of Bobby

“Yes, we agree. Rest is good for everyone. Now come. You’ll rest at my house, where I can make you and your girls happy.” She hangs up before I can say anything else.

I toss my phone onto the bed and roll back over, pulling my Wildflower back into my arms.

“What did she want?”

“She’s making food. We’re expected to go eat it,” I say around a yawn.

“What time do we need to leave?”

“Shhh. We have time. Back to sleep.”

I feel her shake from laughter in my arms, and I smile with my eyes closed, content in my life right now. She doesn’t fight me, and we get about thirty seconds of peace before the edge of the bed dips.

“Mommy, I’m hungry. Can we have donuts?” Ivy asks.

I peek out at her with one eye open and see her still in her pajamas, hair smashed up on one side, a curled mess on the other. And a stuffed monkey in her arms.

“Me, too, Mommy,” Lily says, coming into the room with a similar appearance, but with a bunny instead as her stuffed animal today.

“Guess our time is up,” Willow whispers, and I can hear the lightness in her voice. It lifts something heavy in my heart.

After the last two days, I didn’t know what was going to happen between us and how they would all take it. I had many thoughts, all of which I kept to myself. But this? This I never expected. And it’s the best.

No one is reminiscing about what happened. The girls don’t seem put out about it, and neither has asked about Trevor the Dragon even once since we left the house their father took them to. The family doctor we had over last night confirmed that the blood samples he ran on the girls came back clean. He sent a text a few hours after he left and said that while he can’t pinpoint exactly what Trevor gave them, he can confirm that whatever it was will not have any lasting side effects. Something I’ve been watching out for, just in case.

I’ve been with them the entire time, needing to be with them as much as Willow does. Losing them took something from me I didn’t know they held: pieces of my heart, large enough that I felt the absence. I now know my heart is split in thirds. God help anyone who tries to take them, any of them, from me again. My love for each of them is equal, but different. And if we’re so blessed to have more children, I know my heart will grow to accommodate them all.

The doorbell ringing has me groaning and Willow giggling.

“We can’t seem to avoid anyone,” she says.

“We can if we try,” I say and pull the covers over our heads. To which the girls laugh and play tug-of-war with the bedspread with us.

After the third door chime, I get up, leaving Willow and the tickle-fest that’s ensuing in the bedroom, and go to answer the door.

I’m not surprised at all to see Marco there with three coffees and a bag of what I presume is food.

“My mama called?” I ask as I let him in.

He nods. “Two hours ago.”

I snort at that. Sounds about right.

“Marco!” Lily gives her cry of warning a second before she plasters herself to him.

“Hey, little one. I brought breakfast.”

“Donuts?” Ivy asks as she comes over and gets onto the barstool. I hold it steady for her as she climbs up.

“Maybe,” he says with a wink as he picks up Lily and plops her on the chair beside her sister. Then he pulls out the food he brought. It’s not lavish by any means, but it’s everything that they could want.

That’s the best part about this family. They don’t expect things. They know I have money, and not a single one ever asks for more than a little something. And if I or anyone ever said no, I already know none of them would throw a fit.

“That coffee for me?” Willow comes sneaking up behind me, wrapping her arms around my back a second before I pull her around to the front.

“Sure is,” Marco says and moves the tray of coffees to us after pulling his out. “Got you a few breakfast sandwiches too.”

“Thank you, Marco. Right, girls?” Willow side-eyes her girls, and they both mumble their thanks around mouths full of chocolate-frosted donuts.