March 2025 #3
“What kids?” Kola said, like she was insane.
“The kids they’re going to help raise.”
“What makes you think I won’t have kids?”
“And when will you have time to do that, Doctor Kage?”
“Oh, I don’t know, CEO Kage, when will you?”
“I called dibs on them when you left them to go to Stanford.”
“That’s a low blow, and a lie. You wanted to travel the world.”
“I can still travel the world, especially in my plane with my parents in tow!”
“So what, you and Jake are gonna have kids?”
“Yes. Someday. Are you and Finn?”
“Yes. Same. Someday.”
They were both quiet.
“Awww,” Kola said, and he was smiling. “You and Jake would have cute kids.”
“And your surrogate will give you and Finn cute ones too.”
“Thank you.”
“And Pa can take care of all of them.”
“I can do what now?” I asked.
“They’ll live with me, and you can visit,” Hannah told her brother. “Dad and Finn might not get along.”
“How about we worry about homework for now, what do you both think?”
They were quiet.
“So you’re both having kids with these people?”
“Probably,” Hannah told me.
“Good chance,” Kola echoed.
“Does Finn want to have children?” I asked my son.
“I think so.”
“Have you asked?”
“No.”
“Hannah?”
“Yes, Pa. Jake wants to have babies with me.”
“But not tomorrow.”
“Pa, Jake couldn’t find ketchup in the refrigerator the other day because it was turned around the wrong way. You’re my emergency contact, not him, and he and I live together.”
That was true.
“He is not in fact ready to be a father.”
“You’ll be a good mother someday,” Kola told his sister. “And I was just telling Pa that your pot roast is getting really good.”
“Thank you,” she cooed. “And you’ll be a good dad yourself. You just have to be less concerned with neatness.”
“If things aren’t neat, how can you tell where something goes?”
“Tell Jake, not me.”
“I’ve been telling him that for years, and you’re right, you’re much neater than he is.”
“That’s sort of a low bar. I mean, everyone is neater than Jake.”
“That’s valid.”
She chuckled.
“Where are you?” he griped suddenly. “I don’t want it to just be me and Pa here. And you should see him. He looks like I hit him.”
“Why?’
“I made him sad about Melton Prep.”
“Why would he be—Pa, why would you be sad?” she asked me, remembering that she had us both on the phone. “Kola didn’t go there.”
“But he could have. The only reason he didn’t was because I didn’t want us to be apart.”
“Which is a legitimate reason,” she reminded me. “You can’t beat yourself up over something that didn’t even happen.”
Which was true.
“I’ll leave shortly. I’ll see you guys soon.”
“Good,” Kola said flatly.
“Now turn off the car and take a pic so I can see how bad it looks.”
At which point Kola turned off the already parked car, pulled his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket—because of course we had dressed for dinner—turned to me, snapped a picture, and sent it to Hannah.
“Oh good Lord,” she muttered. “He needs a frozen bag of peas or something on his face when you get inside.”
“Because I don’t know how swelling works?”
“I could leave you there all alone with grown-ups all night,” she warned him.
He grunted.
“And our new cousins,” she added.
“Fine. Sorry.”
“What new––” I gasped. “You’re talking about Thea and Kitty. That’s not nice.”
Hannah scoffed.
“Thea hates Hannah,” Kola assured me. “And we know this because she posted her thoughts on my sister on Instagram for all the world to see.”
“This was after the wedding,” Hannah clarified for me. “Where I did her a favor.”
“Kitty wasn’t any better,” Kola said, chuckling. “The only one who hasn’t said a word is Oliver, but I suspect he doesn’t care.”
“Well, I don’t care either,” my girl explained. “But I don’t want to be friends. And if I was in Kola’s shoes, I’d want someone else to talk to as well.”
“Next time we’re invited, I will politely decline,” I promised both of my children.
“No,” Kola was adamant. “I don’t want Dad and Uncle Michael to be strangers. And if you don’t show up for Aunt Sandy, then they will be.”
“You’re both very thoughtful people,” I said, about to rub my left eye.
“No,” Kola scolded, smacking my hand. “You’re just gonna make it worse.”
“Ohmygod, do not rub your eyes!” Hannah chided me.
It was like she was there. “You didn’t even see what I was doing.”
“I don’t have to. I can hear Kola.”
I made her hang up, and Kola and I got out of the car and headed for the front door. There ended up being a small group of us, walking together, and we all said hello and exchanged names, and I told Tierney, Mr. and Mrs. Sloan’s youngest, how much I loved the pale blue suit they had on.
“Very spring forward,” I let them know.
“Thank you.”
I then cleared my throat. “My pronouns are he/him. May I ask yours?”
“Yes,” they replied, beaming at me. “I use they/them.”
“Thank you for sharing.”
“Thank you for asking,” Tierney said with a sigh, glancing at Kola.
“I’m Kola, and I use he/him like my father.”
Tierney smiled at him.
“I also think the suit looks good on you, but I would not be caught dead in it.”
“Amen,” Mr. Sloan seconded my son as Tierney’s brother, Eddie, nodded.
“What?” Tierney sounded horrified. “This is couture.”
“It’s baby blue,” Kola pointed out. “Which is not in my color wheel.”
Mrs. Sloan thought that was hysterical. So did everyone else.
When we reached the front and rang the bell, a maid was there to open the door and greet all of us. Once we were inside the vestibule, our hostess and her oldest daughter walked over.
“Edward, Maura,” Sandy said, her focus there first, as it should have been. You were supposed to be allowed to ignore your family. “Thank you for coming. I haven’t seen Eddie and Willow in such a long––”
“It’s Tierney now,” they told Sandy, offering her their hand. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Oh I… Tierney?”
“Yes,” Maura answered, smiling. “It’s actually Tierney Tate, borrowing from their grandmother, who also had a non-binary name, and we have big news because they just––”
“All the changes as they navigate who they’re going to be at any given moment,” Sandy offered, giving Maura a pat on the arm. “It’s Tierney now until it changes to something else, am I right? My kids were the exact same way.”
As responses went, not the worst it could have been, but far from the best. I was in no way an expert, but one hundred percent allyship was the only way to go. As a result of that, things happened quickly.
Tierney caught their breath.
Maura’s mouth dropped open, and her face went white.
Edward, her husband, looked at Tierney, then over at his other kid, Eddie—firstborn, so he got stuck being a junior—and asked, “Who wants burgers?”
Without missing a beat, Kola raised his hand. “Me,” he chimed in.
All eyes on him. The Sloans, Sandy and Thea, and mine.
Kola’s slow grin then. “I mean, I could eat.”
It was like everyone deflated at once, and we all laughed except Sandy and Thea.
“C’mon,” Maura told him with a calming exhale of breath, gesturing for my son. “Let’s go, you’re invited.”
Tierney grinned at me. “You can come too, Mr. Harcourt-Kage,” they said, hyphenating for me, being mindful of how I’d introduced myself.
“Thank you,” I replied, then passed Maura my phone. “Put your number in there.”
“Oh yes, please,” she said, and tears started rolling down her cheeks as she passed me hers. “That would be wonderful.”
And because she was crying, I started again.
“Oh, Mr. Harcourt-Kage, what happened?”
“Just Jory, please,” I corrected her. “And my son told me something horrible on the way over here.”
Instantly she went into caring comfort mode, she was a woman after all, and I told her everything about Melton Prep. She grabbed my hands as I explained what could have happened. Being a parent, she understood the ramifications more than my kids did and cried right along with me.
Sandy was utterly overwhelmed, but was smart enough to immediately rush over to Tierney and beg forgiveness for being an idiot.
That part was good. She had forgotten herself for a moment and knew what she should have said versus what came out of her mouth.
She pleaded with Tierney to give her another chance, and then promptly burst into tears.
Turning, looking a bit wary, Tierney just stood there.
“You got into college?” Kola asked, assuming, as I did, that was the news that Maura had been about to share.
“Yeah.”
“Where ya goin’?”
“Dartmouth.”
“Congratulations,” Kola said sincerely. “Ivy League. Impressive.”
“Thank you.”
When Sam Kage arrived moments later, walking in through the front door, his glare could have split wood.
“Sandy, why is everyone crying in your goddamn vestibule?”
He meant me and Maura and Sandy, as we were the three who were weeping and his question was much louder than that.
When I glanced at him, Maura gasped as he advanced on us, and I understood why.
He was breathing fire, and he was still dressed for work.
Tall, with his broad shoulders, the scowl that made his eyes glint, both ferocious and protective, the chiseled jaw, the bulging muscles…
he was definitely the hero. He looked the part.
“Maura, this is my husband, Chief Deputy Sam Kage.”
“Oh,” Eddie said brightly, moving fast to intercept my husband, having been talking to his father, missing Sam when he first arrived moments before. “Hello again, sir.”
“Mr. Sloan,” Sam greeted him, offering the young man his hand, which Eddie took quickly. “Did you fill out all your forms so we can stay in touch with you?”
“Yessir,” he said with a sigh, his gaze never moving from my husband until he had to turn his head and look at his father. “Dad, this is the marshal you wanted to talk to that day.”
Mr. Sloan, Edward, rushed forward, hand out for Sam. “Thank you for saving my son, Chief Deputy. Wrong place, wrong time, could have been life changing for our family.”