Page 95 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

Wren looks at Kendra, two tiny baby teeth making her grin impossibly more cute. “Mama,” Wren says.

Wide-eyed, Kendra looks at Wren, then me, then back to Wren. “What the eff did she just say to me?”

“Mama, Mama!” Wren says again, snuggling into Kendra and kicking her little feet.

“Holy-fucking-shit,” Kendra says, turning to me with tears in her eyes.

“Sweetheart!” I playfully chastise her for swearing.

“Why is she saying that, Eli?” Kendra whispers, panic in her tone.

“Why wouldn’t she say that?” I cross my arms, lean back on the island, and watch her sway with Wren, rubbing Wren’s back soothingly even in the midst of her own internal panic.

“Because, because I’m not,” she says lamely.

“Yes you are.”

“Eli.”

“Kendra.” I narrow my eyes at her.

She sighs and squeezes her eyes shut.

“Look at you right now. You have been mothering Wren since she was born.” I walk over, wrap them both in my arms, and she looks at me.

“Really?”

“Really. Who knows her routine? All her favorite things?”

“Both of us,” she says.

“Right. Because we are parenting her. Together,” I say firmly.

She stares at me, lost for words.

“And who can settle her the best at night when she is extra fussy and cutting a new tooth?”

“Me,” Kendra admits.

“And who is Wren most excited to see in the mornings?” I pretend to be annoyed.

Kendra smiles. “Me.”

“And who organizes all her things when she outgrows clothes, plans her schedule, brings her to the fire station to see me?”

“Me,” Kendra whispers.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Because you are her mother. Maybe not through DNA or written on a piece of paper, but in here”—I lay my hand on her heart—“where it matters. You are her mom, and she knows it. She lives in your light, the glow of your love every single day, just like me. And we are so damn lucky.”

Kendra sucks in a breath and cries, and I pull both my girls close, kissing each of them on the tops of their heads.

“Hulk, I swear I’ve never called myself that to her.” Kendra looks at me totally flustered, like she somehow tricked Wren into saying it.

I shake us with my laughter, and she shoves at me.

“Seriously!”

“Ask me what her middle name is.”