Sunny
Three years.
It amazed her how completely her life had transformed in just three years.
She glanced around the kitchen, taking in the evidence of their expanded family life.
Ethan’s finger paintings adorned the refrigerator door — splashes of bright color that never stayed within the lines, just like their exuberant two-year-old.
Beside them hung Maddie’s latest science fair certificate and Hailey’s ballet recital program.
Today was also special for another reason.
Three years ago exactly, she had returned to this house after leaving — the day Liam had tracked her to the lake cabin and fought to bring her home.
Their annual “second chance day,” though they had never formalized it with a name. Her throat tightened at the memory.
“Mama,” he said, reaching up with grabby hands, his blue eyes — so much like Liam’s — still heavy with sleep.
“Good morning, my little love.” Sunny scooped Ethan up, burying her nose in his neck and inhaling his sweet toddler scent. No matter the parenting challenges they faced, this — this perfect weight in her arms — never failed to center her. How close she had come to missing all of this.
“Are those blueberry pancakes?” Maddie appeared in the doorway, already dressed in jeans and a hockey jersey, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. At nine, she carried herself with a quiet confidence that sometimes made Sunny’s heart ache — she was growing up so fast.
“They sure are,” Sunny smiled.
“Can I set the table?” Maddie asked, reaching for the plates.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Sunny bounced Ethan on her hip while stirring the batter one-handed, a skill perfected out of necessity.
The gentle click of nails on hardwood announced Maple’s arrival, the golden retriever’s tail wagging in perpetual optimism about breakfast. Behind her came Hailey, still in unicorn pajamas, her blonde hair a wild tangle around her face.
“Maple needs breakfast too,” Hailey announced, heading for the dog’s food bin. At eight, she remained their dreamer, the one who still looked for butterflies.
As Hailey measured out dog food, her small fingers careful with the scoop, Sunny noticed the butterfly barrette in her hair — present even in sleep. Some things never changed.
“Morning, beautiful.” Liam’s voice preceded him as he entered from his morning run, slightly winded and flushed with exertion. Even after retiring from professional hockey, he maintained his athlete’s discipline. He dropped a kiss on Sunny’s lips and ruffled Ethan’s hair.
“Dada stinky,” Ethan murmured, wrinkling his nose.
Liam laughed, snagging a blueberry from the counter. “That’s because Daddy works hard, buddy. You ready for your big skate today?”
“I fall,” Ethan said matter-of-factly.
“Everyone falls,” Liam replied gently. “The brave ones get back up.”
Sunny caught Liam’s eye over their son’s head, the words carrying extra weight between them. How many falls had they weathered? How many times had they found the courage to stand again?
“Dad, is Tyler bringing Emma to practice today?” Maddie asked as she arranged the forks with precision.
“He should be,” Liam confirmed, reaching for a coffee mug. “And actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, Sunny.”
Sunny raised an eyebrow, sliding the first batch of pancakes onto a warming plate. “Oh?”
“Tyler’s really struggling. Emma’s been acting out at school, and he’s overwhelmed trying to do everything alone.” Liam lowered his voice slightly. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
The parallel wasn’t lost on Sunny. Tyler Reynolds, former team captain turned manager, was now raising his six-year-old daughter alone after his wife left them last year.
“You think he needs help?” Sunny asked, already knowing the answer.
“I think he needs a Sunny,” Liam replied simply.
The front door opened before she could respond, and Beth’s familiar voice called out, “Good morning, Andersons! I come bearing carbs!”
Beth appeared in the kitchen doorway, a basket of muffins in hand, her gray hair cut in a stylish bob that took years off her appearance. At sixty-five, she had refused to fully retire, insisting on remaining part of their extended family three days a week.
“Beth!” Hailey abandoned Maple’s food bowl and ran for a hug.
“Just in time,” Sunny smiled. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
As they settled around the table — Ethan in his booster seat and Maple hopeful beneath — Sunny felt that familiar wave of gratitude wash over her. This beautiful chaos was hers. This family, patched together from broken pieces, had become whole.
Yet, as she passed plates and poured juice, a small worry nagged at her.
She had noticed Maddie growing quieter over the past week, retreating into herself in a way that reminded Sunny of those difficult early days.
Something was bothering her eldest daughter, and Sunny couldn’t shake the feeling it was connected to the approaching Mother’s Day festivities at school.
Across the table, Beth was telling a story about her grandson’s latest antics, Hailey laughing in delight while Liam helped Ethan cut his pancakes.
But beneath the surface of this idyllic morning, she sensed the current of tension — in Maddie’s too-careful movements and in the way the girl’s eyes occasionally drifted to Kate’s photo on the wall. After three years, Sunny had learnt to read these subtle signs.
There was also the matter of her own secret, the one she had been harboring for two weeks now. Her hand drifted unconsciously to her abdomen.
“Sunny?” Liam’s voice broke through her thoughts, concern evident in his eyes. “Everything okay?”
She forced a smile. “Everything’s perfect.”
Breakfast dishes clattered into the sink as the family dispersed to prepare for the day.
Beth supervised Ethan’s attempt to dress himself — a new streak of independence that resulted in backward shirts and mismatched socks — while Hailey chattered about the butterfly habitat her class was building at school.
Sunny was wiping down the counter when she noticed Maddie lingering in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.
“Need something, sweetie?” Sunny asked, setting aside the cloth.
Maddie hesitated, glancing over her shoulder to ensure they were alone. “Can I ask you something, Sunny?”
“Always.” Sunny patted the counter stool beside her, giving the girl her full attention.
Maddie climbed up, her legs swinging slightly. Despite her growth in the past three years, she still couldn’t quite reach the floor from these stools. “It’s about… Mother’s Day.”
Ah. Sunny had suspected as much. The school’s annual Mother’s Day tea was approaching, an event that had always been navigated with particular care in their household. “What about it, love?”
“Mrs Harrington says we can invite our mothers and grandmothers this year.” Maddie’s eyes remained fixed on her lap. “Emma says she’s not going because her mom left, and she says it’s stupid.”
Sunny chose her words carefully. “Everyone has different feelings about these kinds of events, and that’s okay.”
“I want to go,” Maddie said in a rush, “and I want you to come. But…”
“But you’re thinking about your mom,” Sunny finished gently.
Maddie nodded, finally meeting Sunny’s eyes. “Some of the kids asked if I have two moms now, and I didn’t know what to say. And then Jamie said you’re not my real mom anyway.” Her voice trembled slightly. “But you are real. You’re real to me.”
Sunny’s throat tightened with emotion. After three years, these moments still had the power to blindside her, reminding her of the delicate nature of blended families and children’s hearts.
“Come here,” she said, opening her arms Maddie slipped off the stool and into her embrace, no longer the resistant six-year-old who had once held herself so rigidly. “First of all, Jamie is wrong. There are many ways to be a real mother, and love is the most important one.”
“That’s what I said,” Maddie mumbled against her shoulder.
“Good for you.” Sunny stroked the girl’s hair. “And remember, you can feel however you want about this. You can miss your mom and love me too. Both things can be true at the same time.”
“Can I bring something of Mom’s to the tea? So she’s there too?”
“That’s a beautiful idea,” Sunny said, her heart swelling with pride at Maddie’s thoughtfulness. “What about her locket? The one with her picture inside?”
Maddie nodded, pulling back slightly. “Would you help me polish it? It’s getting a little dull.”
“Absolutely,” Sunny promised. She hesitated, then asked the question that had been worrying her. “Maddie, are you okay with me coming to the tea? If you’d rather have Grandma Laura instead, that would be completely—”
“No,” Maddie interrupted firmly. “I want you. You’re my…” She paused, searching for the right word. “You’re my Sunny-mom.”
The term, so simple yet so profound, nearly undid Sunny completely. Three years of careful navigation, honoring Kate’s memory while building her own relationship with the girls, distilled into those two perfect words: Sunny-mom.
“Then I will proudly be your Sunny-mom at the tea,” she managed, blinking back tears.
Maddie’s shoulders relaxed, the worry that had been shadowing her for days finally lifting. “Can we still visit Mom’s grave today? I want to tell her about the tea.”
“Of course we can.” Sunny squeezed Maddie’s shoulders gently. “That’s one promise we’ll always keep. We’ll go right after hockey practice.”
A crash from the living room, followed by Ethan’s wail and Beth’s soothing voice, broke the moment.
“I bet your brother found something new to climb,” Sunny said with a rueful smile.
Maddie rolled her eyes with the supreme judgment only a nine-year-old sister could muster. “He’s worse than Maple was as a puppy.”
As Maddie went to investigate, Sunny remained in the kitchen, collecting herself. The conversation had relieved one worry while intensifying another. Mother’s Day — with all its complex emotions — coincided with the timeframe when she would need to tell Liam about her news.
Her hand drifted to her flat stomach. After the miscarriage three years ago, they had been blessed with Ethan, but that first loss had left scars. The fear of another loss lingered, especially in these early weeks. She hadn’t even called the doctor yet, afraid to make it real before she was sure.
“There you are.” Morgan’s voice startled her. Liam’s sister stood in the doorway, elegant as always in tailored slacks and a silk blouse. “I knocked, but apparently Hurricane Ethan is causing too much noise for anyone to hear.”
“Morgan!” Sunny moved to hug her sister-in-law, genuine pleasure evident in her greeting. The transformation in their relationship over the past three years remained one of life’s more surprising gifts. “We weren’t expecting you until this weekend.”
“The seminar ended early,” Morgan explained, setting her designer handbag on the counter. “I thought I’d surprise my favorite nieces and nephew. And bring this.” She pulled out a small jewelry box. “It’s for your anniversary. Well, your other anniversary.”
Sunny accepted the box with surprise. “You remembered?”
“How could I forget?” Morgan’s expression turned rueful. “I was such a monster to you back then. Every time this date rolls around, I feel like a complete bitch.”
“That’s ancient history,” Sunny assured her, opening the box to reveal a delicate gold sun pendant on a chain.
“To go with your collection,” Morgan nodded toward Sunny’s bracelets.
Sunny’s eyes welled up for the second time that morning. “Morgan, it’s beautiful.”
“Don’t get sentimental on me,” Morgan warned, though her own eyes looked suspiciously bright. “Where is everyone? I brought bribes for the children and caffeine for my brother.”
As if summoned, Liam appeared in the kitchen doorway, hockey bag slung over his shoulder. “Morgan? What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my family, obviously.” Morgan deposited kisses on his cheeks. “You’re looking… domestic.”
Liam grinned, the easy relationship between the siblings a far cry from the tension of years past. “And you’re looking like you spent too much money on another business suit.”
“Some of us still have corporate jobs, Coach Anderson.” Morgan’s teasing held no malice.
Liam checked his watch. “We should get going soon, so we can set up in time.”
Sunny’s mind raced to the busy day ahead — hockey practice, visiting Kate’s grave, and hopefully sharing her news with Liam in the evening.
“Daddy! Hockey time!” Ethan announced, barreling into the room with Beth in pursuit, brandishing a miniature stick dangerously close to Maple’s tail.
“Use your inside voice, buddy,” Liam reminded him, though his eyes remained on Sunny.
Morgan scooped up Ethan with exaggerated groans about his weight, and the kitchen filled with the beautiful chaos of family life once more.
As Sunny watched Liam gather his coaching gear and the girls pack their special “assistant coach” bags, she felt the weight of her unspoken secret pressing on her chest like a stone.
Today of all days — their second chance anniversary — she needed to find the courage to share both her joy and her fear with Liam.
After they honored Kate’s memory, she would honor their future by telling him about the new life growing inside her.
“You coming, Sunny?” Liam called from the doorway, the family assembled and ready to depart for the rink.
“Right behind you,” she answered, her hand brushing unconsciously against her abdomen one last time.
Whatever fears she harbored and whatever complications lay ahead with Mother’s Day teas, expanding families, and work-life balance, one truth remained constant: they had fought their way back to each other once before.
Whatever came next, they would face it together — just as they had promised on that pivotal day three years ago.