As if on cue, Mia tosses the plastics aside and crawls over to me. “Ma ma ma.” My heart squeezes hearing her call out for her mommy.
“How cute is that?” She does it again. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Do you want something to eat, baby girl? Want some nom
nom nom?” I tickle her belly and sprinkle kisses all over her chubby little cheeks. She giggles in my arms, a sweet baby laugh that fills my ears with joy.
“She likes you,” Dean says, getting to his feet. He smiles down at me, and ruffles my hair. “Come on, little guy,” he says to Noah, holding out his hands. Noah looks up and flails his arms at the greeting. “Let’s go fix the ladies some lunch.”
I grab Mia and follow them into the kitchen.
Dean digs through the bags and places
some jars and containers on the counter. “Let’s see. Would you guys like some chicken and rice or … lasagna?” He looks up at me. “They’ve really expanded the choices, haven’t they?”
I laugh. “Oh, look. Here’s a note.” I remove it from the bag and begin to read it. “It says we can give them each a half a jar of one of the dinners, a few veggie bites, and they can split a yogurt for dessert.”
“Sounds good.” Dean picks up a jar, empties it into one of the baby bowls from the bag and tosses it in the microwave for a few seconds. “Now that we’ve decided on the dinner that’s not going to stain your face red for the next year, how about some veggies? What’s that? You want to let Mia decide.”
I put two bags of veggies in front of Mia. “Which ones do you want to have? Carrots? Or green beans?” Surprisingly, she paws at the green beans.
“What about you, sweetheart?”
“I’m okay for now. Let’s get the kids fed and off to a nap, and then we can fix something for ourselves.”
He smiles. “Spoken like a true parent.”
“I hope to be someday.”
“So do I.”
Without high chairs or some baby seats, Dean and I settle on sitting the babies on the edge of the table with their feet dangling over the side. We position ourselves in front of them and start feeding. Noah is a lot more cooperative. He’s a guy through and through. It’s time to eat, not time to play, and he’s not about to waste any food. Mia is a different story. After every bite, she puts her fingers in her mouth and then pulls at her hair. Her cute little pig tails have been replaced by hair spiked with chicken and rice.
Since Mia needs to be cleaned up, and spraying her with a hose is out of the question, I decide to go for it and give her a bath. And while I’m at it, I suggest we may as well throw Noah in the tub too.
“You want to fix their bottles?” I ask Dean. “They’re just playing now. I can handle this. Or I can fix them.” The two children have been splashing around for a while, but Mia is starting to rub her eyes so it’s definitely going to be nap time soon.
“I’ll fix them.” He leaves me with the two little ones who are jabbering up a storm again. They love having water poured over the heads so I keep them content until we’re ready to get
to take them out of the tub.
When Dean comes back, we grab their slippery bodies, wrap them in towels, and take them into Dean’s room. Before we put them in the tub, I got all their clothes ready and their diapers. Each kid has their own changing station on the bed. Once again, Dean takes my breath away with how comfortable he is spreading baby lotion all over little Noah, putting on his diaper and maneuvering his arms and legs into his new clean outfit.
“All set,” he says, hoisting Noah into the air and bringing him down for a little smooch on the cheek. “Let’s get some warm milk in that belly and get you off to bed. We don’t want you to be fussy for your mom and dad so you need your rest.” As if Noah understands what’s being said to him, he nods his head in agreement.
“Did you hear that, Mia? It’s nap time.” She’s going to be out soon. She’s digs her little hands into her eyes and yawns. I take it she agrees too.
When our friends arrive, Mia and Noah are knocked out on a blanket on the floor, side by side, holding their own soft
blankies. Dean and I are halfway through our own lunches.
“Peanut butter and jelly,” Shelly says, looking down at our sandwiches.
“Already acting the part of real parents.” Mel adds, with a laugh.
“I’m surprised you actually took the time to spread anything on a piece of bread. Mel and I usually have some Fruit Loops.” Tyler actually seems impressed.
Matty chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “And we have Captain Crunch.”
“With berries,” Shelly
adds. “Look at them. They look so peaceful. Thank you both so much. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you guys were able to come through for us like this. There isn’t anyone else I could’ve trusted our babies with.” Tears fill her eyes and my throat tightens.
“We were happy to help. I hope everything is okay with your dad.” I reach out and give Shelly a quick hug.
“Yeah, he scared the shit out of us.” She dabs the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “But they caught it early. It wasn’t a severe heart attack so it didn’t cause too much more damage than was already there.” She goes on to tell us about the procedure he had to have and how he’s recovering. Instead of sitting there and staring at him, they decided to come over, get their children and go home and rest.
While the guys pack up the bags, and take the gear out to their cars, the women get the little ones ready to go. Noah
wakes, smiles at his mommy and snuggles into her chest. When Shelly tells him to say goodbye and thank you, his eyes widen and he flashes me his two teeth. Mia doesn’t wake at all. When Mel picks her up, she just falls against her mom’s shoulder and stays fast asleep.
Mel runs her hand over her daughter’s head and kisses her forehead. “You gave her a bath?”
“Yeah, both of them,” I tell her. “She got a little messy at lunch. Her hair looked like Cameron Diaz in Something About Mary.”
The three of us laugh at my joke. “I tell Ty that all the time. She never touches her hair unless she has a handful of food in her hand.
”
The guys come back and Ty says, “We’re all set.”
“Hey, babe. Summer gave both the kiddos a bath,” Mel tells her hubby.
“Wow, I’m impressed.” Ty gives me a slow nod in approval.
“Yeah, they were both a piece of cake,” I tell them. “I thought it was going to be a little difficult with both of them at the same time, but your kids are great. They made it seem easy.” Dean’s smile beams down at me, while he runs his fingers through my hair.
“Sounds like you two are ready for a kid of your own,” Shel says with a wink.
“Someday,” Dean replies, and by the look in his eyes, I can tell he truly means it.
“Well, let
’s go then so they can get started. It only takes one good swimmer, Dean. Give the boys a pep talk and in nine months, you can join the daddy club with us,” Matt says, smacking Dean on the shoulder.
“I guess that’s our cue. I don’t want to be here when Dean talks to his nuts or sperm or whate
ver you were referring to,” Shel says.
“Neither do
we,” Mel adds.
And w
ith that, they’re gone after a round of thank yous and hugs.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad.” Dean puckers his lips to me and bends down just shy of my face.
I smack my lips against his with a loud
muah
. “Not at all.”
“So what do you think?”
“About what?” I ask, circling my arms around his waist and grabbing a handful of his sweet ass.
“Wanna make some babies?” He flutters his brows.
“I’m not ready to be a mom just yet. But I wouldn’t mind getting some practice in.”
He smiles. “That works. Let’s go talk to my boys.”
“Wait, didn’t you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“It can wait.” He pushes his body into mine. “I think we have more pressing matters to tend to.”
I arch a brow at him. “And that matter is getting bigger by the moment.”
Summer
“Are you nervous?” I ask Dean as we get ready for today’s visitors. He’s standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his waist. I have to remind myself to breathe when we get ready together. I could watch his naked body move swiftly through the room all day long and never get tired of staring.
“Not at all,” he says, cleaning up the lines of his thin beard with a razor. “If you survived my parents, I’m pretty sure I can handle yours.”
“Keep telling yourself that. My parents are just as … quirky.”
“That’s one way to describe my mom and dad.” He finishes shaving and comes over to stand behind me. “I love these goofy braids.”
“Goofy?” I frown.
“Yes. Goofy. And cute. I love your playful side and these scream
play with me
.” He tugs on each of my loosely tied braids and kisses the top of my head. “And if we had more time, I’d do just that.”
“Later,” I tell him, reaching for my mascara.
“Count on it.” He bends down and places a soft kiss on my bare shoulder before leaving the bathroom.
Since there’s a ball game on, I decide to keep it simple and fix a small nacho bar. Tortilla chips, nacho cheese, sour cream, guacamole, refried beans, and shredded chicken. Before you say that doesn’t sound simple, let me clarify. I never have to turn on the stove since everything comes ready made from a package of some sort.
“They’re here,” Dean calls out when we hear a knock at the door. He doesn’t seem
fazed one bit. One of the many things I love about him. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McGallian, come on in.” He swings his arm out, gesturing for them to enter.
I come out of the kitchen just as they step over the threshold. “Hi, Mom. Dad.” I go to them and give them each a long tight hug. We come from a family of huggers. Not
the fake, pat on the shoulder with your butt sticking out kind of hug, but a nice hearty full embrace with arms wrapped around each other. That’s one of the things I noticed right away about Lucy, Dean’s mom. She knows how to hug. “This is Dean.”
My dad offers his hand, “Nice to meet you, son. It’s taken long enough. When are you going to make an honest woman out of my
daughter?”
“Dad!” I squeal. “Come on. I told you guys to behave.
”
Dean takes my dad’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you too,
sir. That’s probably something I should talk to you about. Soon.” The fact that he didn’t shy away from my dad’s blunt force demands is not lost on me. And did he really say
soon
?
“Call me, Pete,” Dad says, pumping his hand up and down. I know he’s giving him on
e of those Jedi mind messages …
fuck with my daughter and you’re dead
.
“Well, don’t
hog the father of my grandbabies, Pete. I’d like to meet him too.”
“Mother!” With the palm of my fist smashed to my forehead, I shake my head. Is it over yet? Dean’s parents are newborn puppies compared to these bulldozing St.
Bernards.
She steps between my dad and Dean and puts her hands to her mouth. “Oh my, Summer. This man is absolutely stunning. If your dad wasn’t such as fantastic roll in the hay, I might have to fight you for him.”
“Stop. Just stop.”
Dean is smiling like a Cheshire cat, definitely amused by my oh-so-inappropriate parents. “Why thank you, Mrs. McGallian. I’m flattered.”
“Quit with the mister and missus bologna. I’m Annie … nice to meet you, Dean.” She hugs him tight, holding on a bit longer than I like. “Oh, and he’s a firm one too. You lucky doll you. No wonder you haven’t let us meet him until now. You were keeping this stallion all to yourself.”
“All right, all right. Enough with the introductions. Come in and grab your food, the game is about to start.” Thank God. Maybe some nachos will shut them up long enough for me to recover from the embarrassment.
Mom and Dean chatter away to the kitchen, and my dad holds me back. “Well, honey, he didn’t bolt already so that’s a good sign.”
“If I were him, I’d kick your asses out.” I know I’m not one to curse, but these crazy people bring it on. “So what did you think? He’s pretty damn amazing, huh?”
“He handled my question fairly well. And if I’m not mistaken, he was quite serious about that talk. My baby might be getting herself hitched sometime soon.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I can tell it’s the real deal, honey. The way he looked at you when you walked into the room made me the happiest dad alive. Every daddy wants their daughter to be looked at with such love and affection. And he sure does love you, doesn’t he?”
Tears sting my eyes. It makes me so happy to hear my dad say these things. To know that he can see what I feel every time Dean looks at me. “He does, Daddy. He really does.”
We’re all lounging around, chomping away, and chatting between innings. The Dodgers are winning. My parents like Dean. Dean likes my parents. What more could I ask for?