“She’s cool,” Mitchell tells his brother. “She’s a teacher.”

“At the high school?” Max clarifies.

“No, she teaches first graders.”

Max frowns. “Then how do you know her?”

“She and a few other first grade teachers bring their classes to the high school once a week. Me and a bunch of the kids in my class play games with them, shoot hoops, or read books. It’s fun, and plus we get to skip study hall,” he says like that is the best part. “Miss Mayson is one of the coolest teachers who comes. Most of the other teachers are stuck up, but she’s always laughing and joking with us when she’s there.”

“Cool,” Max says, and Mitchell grins.

“About that, kid. I don’t remember you ever mentioning it to me,” I say, watching my oldest closely.

“It’s not a big deal.” He shrugs casually before he turns to press the up arrow and increase his speed on the treadmill.

“You’re right,” I agree when he looks at me, continuing to walk backward just faster now. “It’s not a big deal, but it’s still something I’d like to know you’re doing. It’s also something I’m proud of you for doing.”

“It’s awesome you’re doing that,” Selma inserts, and I see Sejla nod in agreement. “I’m sure the kids love it and really look up to you.”

“I guess,” Mitchell murmurs, looking a little embarrassed.

“I’m proud of you, kid,” I say, and his eyes meet mine. “Your aunt’s right. Those kids probably look up to you and look forward to the time you spend with them each week.”

“Thanks, Dad,” he mumbles, and I lift my chin, not wanting to make him feel any more awkward than he already does.

“So where are you taking December?” Sejla asks, and I look to where she’s standing with her arms crossed over her chest as she studies me. “Please tell me it’s some place nice and not out for pizza or a burger.”

“I’m taking her to Flame,” I reply, and her eyes grow wide. I’m not surprised by her expression. Flame opened three months ago, and the waitlist for a table has been a month out since opening. “I know the owner. I’ve done quite a bit of work on his cars, and he told me awhile back that if I wanted a table, it was mine. So I pulled a favor.”

“Well, color me impressed.”

“Glad you approve,” I mutter sarcastically, and she grins.

“What time is Grandma coming over?” Max asks behind me, and I turn to find him on the treadmill with his brother.

“Around 4:30.”

“Can we go to the movies tonight?”

“If your grandma is up to taking you, sure,” I answer, and the two of them smile, since they know from experience that all they have to do is ask and their grandma will jump at the chance to make them happy. “That said, you two should get a head start on whatever homework you’ve got before she gets here. That way, tomorrow, you’re not complaining when I’m watching the game and eating junk food without you.”

“Homework sucks,” Max states as Mitchell turns to power down the treadmill.

“Look at the bright side; you two only have a few more months of school before summer is here,” Sejla tells him, and his eyes go to her as he jumps away from his brother, who playfully pushes him off the now still treadmill.

“I guess you’re right,” he agrees with his aunt then peers up at me. “If I’m gonna do homework, I need brain food.”

“You just ate an entire meal from McDonald’s in the car on the way here. How are you even hungry right now?” Selma asks, sounding astonished.

“That was like forever ago,” he says with a straight face, and she shakes her head in disbelief.

I curl my boy into my side and tip my head down toward him. “Turn on the oven and I’ll put in a pizza for you before I hop in the shower.”

“Cool.” He grins, and I ruffle his hair then let him go to watch him hug his aunts before he disappears through the doorway into the house.

“I need brain food too, Dad,” Mitchell tells me with a grin as Selma and Sejla start muttering back and forth under their breath about how much my boys eat.

“I’m sure one pizza will be enough to hold you and your brother over until dinner.”

“I guess so,” he grumbles before he starts for the door.

“Umm… are you forgetting something?” Sejla asks his back, and his shoulders sag as he turns to face both his aunts, who are looking at him expectantly.

“Sorry.” He holds up his hand for a high five, and my sisters take that as a challenge and rush him at the same time. Once he’s stuck between them, they begin to hug and kiss him.

“Dad!” he yells, looking at me for help, and I hold up both my hands and laugh while he groans and grumbles, trying unsuccessfully to dodge them.

“Now, you can go.” Selma laughs, releasing him at the same time as Sejla.

I hear him growl under his breath as he adjusts his clothes and fixes his hair, and I smile as he glares at me before stomping away, disappearing back into the house.

“He’s growing up too fast,” Sejla says, and I feel pain slice through my chest. She’s right. I try not to think about it, but I know it’s only going to be a few years before we’re searching for colleges. And on the heels of that, he’ll move out, eventually find someone to spend his life with, and start a family of his own. And not long after he’s gone, Max will do the same and begin his own life. It feels like it was just minutes ago that I was holding each of them against my chest, marveling at the fact that I created them. And now they are on the cusp of becoming men of their own.

“Both my boys are growing up too quickly,” I reply, watching my sisters’ faces soften in understanding. “I’ve loved watching them grow and become their own men, but—”

“You miss your babies,” Sejla says quiet, cutting me off.

“Yeah.” I rub the tension from the back of my neck.

“Maybe you’ll have another baby one day,” Selma says, and I shake my head in denial.

“No sleep, bottles, and endless amounts of diapers? No thanks. I did that twice, and I’m not going back.”

“You’re still young,” Sejla points out, like that’s reason enough to have another kid.

“I have my boys. I’ve done the baby thing and enjoyed every second of it, but I’m not interested in going through that again,” I say, then watch my sisters share a look of disappointment. “What?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

“You’re young,” Sejla repeats, then holds up her hand when I start to open my mouth to reiterate my earlier statement. “Whoever you end up with will most likely be young too, so what will happen if they don’t have kids and want to start a family with you?”

My chest tightens as I fully comprehend the point she’s trying to make. Still, I say, “Whoever I end up with will have my boys and me.”

“Okay, I get that, but maybe you shouldn’t completely close the door on the idea of having more children,” she tells me, then continues with her voice dipping to a solemn tone. “With both Mitchell and Max, you were a single dad doing all the heavy lifting alone. It would be different if you found the right woman, someone who wanted to be a mom. Someone to share things with, who’d stick around even when things got hard.”