“We’re going to make a run for it,” I told the kids. We were in the car, parked in front of the house.

“I’ll dirty my clothes,” Munchkin huffed loudly.

I turned to him to explain I was a moron and I’d forgotten the garage keys when we’d left that morning, but Peanut’s actions had me speechless. She opened the door, jumped out, and started dancing in the rain.

Patrick watched her in horror.

“Stay put,” I told him, sliding out of the car, seizing Peanut under my arm and rushing to the front door. “Do you want to get sick?” I scolded her.

“It’s pretty outside.”

“If this downpour is pretty, then you’re crazy.” I kicked the door open. “Get in. And stay in.” I shook my finger at her, before rushing back to the car.

I opened the back door, beckoning Patrick out, to no avail. “Come on, honey. Get under my jacket,” I offered, opening my suit jacket.

He perked up a little, burrowing close to me. With my arms tightly wrapped around him, I hurried inside.

I found a distraught Ruby on the steps, chewing on her lip. “What happened?”

This day was getting worse by the second, when it was supposed to be a wonderful one. It was Gus’s birthday, but also the day I had met Justin. Since we couldn’t fly to Toronto with them where the girls took Gus for his birthday (it had been on his list for a while to visit Ripley’s Aquarium of Canada), we decided to celebrate our anniversary in style.

Our plans went to shit when Debbie got a cold, then Michael and Ben were off to fucking Chicago to visit Hunter, Ted and Blake were on a double date with Emmett and Drew, and even Jen was busy. Keith and Leo had their hands full with their three rascals, no need for two more. So much for having a big family when they couldn’t be there to help. All we wanted was a night alone so we could fuck without worrying about the kids hearing us.

With no one to help us, we were stuck with our progenitors and the usual quickie in the shower. If we were lucky.

“Peanut, what happened?” I was too tired to deal with her queening over not being allowed outside in the rain.

“Sloth stole my shoe.” She hiccupped, sniffing loudly.

“WHAT?”

“I said—”

“I heard what you said,” I muttered, shooting Patrick a dirty look. It was all his and Justin’s fault the dog existed in the first place.

He ignored me, brushing at his clothes. He was worse than me when it came to ruining his precious clothes.

“Don’t worry, Peanut. I’ll save your shoe after I bring the groceries from the car.”

“He ran through the backdoor,” she explained.

I stomped out, not giving a shit about the rain anymore. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I kicked at the gravel at my feet.

I wished Justin wasn’t stuck at the gallery preparing his latest show. I needed his grounding more than ever. I was seconds away from exploding, and I was afraid the kids were going to be at the end of my wrath.

Snatching the bags from the trunk, I snapped the door shut, making my way inside the house.

“Instead of pouting, do something productive and unpack,” I told Patrick who stood sullenly, staring at his wet pants.

“They’re ruined! This stupid rain! I hate it!” He stomped his foot down.

“Is that decent behavior coming from a fourteen year old?” I raised an eyebrow.

He huffed, going to the kitchen. “I declare Ruby my assistant.”

“Go with your brother. Try not to break anything. I’m going to find the dog.”

It didn’t take me long to track the beast. He was trying to bury her shoe in the mud under the rose bushes.

“You fucking dog!” I pushed him away, thrusting my hand in the wet ground. “I fucking hate you,” I spat, coming out with Ruby’s red shoe.

When I returned inside, sadly with the dog in tow because I couldn’t leave him out, I went to wash my hands in our room, after cleaning his paws at the front door.

That was when I noticed several things.

First, my new Armani suit was wet and smudged with dirt.

Second, I had something pink on the collar of my shirt. Hopefully not the juice Ruby had earlier.

And third, as I cleaned my hands, I found something missing.

“No.” A sense of dread filled me as I stared at my bare hand.

From the second I'd asked Justin to marry me all those years ago, I’ve never taken the ring off. Unless necessary like in the hospital, due to not fitting during the pregnancy, or when I was playing with the kids various gross things. I cherished the ring even more after the day we got officially married a few years back.

After searching around in the bathroom for a good ten minutes, I realized it must have slipped in the mud outside.

As I breezed through the kitchen to the backdoor, Patrick stopped me to ask where the cookies went. Like he didn’t know. He was a pro at discovering every hiding spot Justin came up with.

“Use your imagination.” I rolled my eyes, heading outside.

I crouched by the rosebushes and started looking around with a twig. It seemed gross to put my hand in there without actually having a visible purpose…like Ruby’s shoe earlier.

To my great disgust, I even discovered dog shit.

“Now, that’s a pleasant way to be greeted when I get home.” I heard Justin approaching. “But why are you gardening in this weather, while wearing your precious Armani suit, no less?”

I glanced up, sneering. “I’m not gardening. I’m looking for something.”

I couldn’t tell him I lost the ring. He’d think I was some idiot.

“Do you want to help Ruby discover the dinosaur bones in our backyard?” He laughed heartily.

“Urgh! I had a little accident. It was all Sloth’s fault!”

“That’s so first grade, Brian. What did he do? Eat your homework?”

“He stole Peanut’s shoe. Don’t worry. I found it, but lost…something in the process.”

He frowned. “What did you lose?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?” I glared, going back to twirling around in the mud with my twig.

“I can’t help you find whatever you lost, if don’t tell me what is it.” He crouched next to me, kissing my cheek.

“My dignity,” I mumbled.

“Come on. What did you lose that can’t wait until the downpour has stopped?”

“My ring,” I whispered, cringing.

He snorted in laughter. “What ring? Your cock ring?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, before grabbing his left hand. “This one, you twat! It must have slipped while I dug after Peanut’s shoe. Did I mention I fucking hate that dog?”

“Oh!” Justin pushed me away, rolling his sleeves and started moving the mud away until I saw the shiny metal. He picked the ring, turning to beam at me.

He lifted my left hand, slipping the ring on. “Try not to lose it again.”

“That’s exactly what I was planning to do. Thanks.” I gave him a chaste kiss.

“Now, let’s head inside before we catch a cold.” He took my hand, leading the way. “Funny day you chose to lose your ring. There are other ways to say you’re sick of me,” Justin teased.

I bumped into his shoulder. “Yes, why didn’t I think of that? I could have told you to fuck off without all that trouble of digging in the mud.”

“Not like you haven’t told me to fuck off before.”

I laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It might sound crazy, but I miss our fights.”

Justin eyed me incredulously. “So last week’s shouting contest wasn’t good enough for you? I don’t even remember what got us started, but fuck, Brian. I wanted to strangle you.”

“I’ll tell you what got you started—the toilet seat being up in the kids’ bathroom thus Peanut nearly falling in. I stand my ground. You should blame Patrick.”

“We are not starting another fight over that shit!”

“Who said anything about starting it? We can continue where we left off. If I remember correctly, you threw a glass at my head.”

“I didn’t. Okay, I did,” he admitted, quietly. “Good thing you have quick reflexes.”

“Are you guys fighting again?” Patrick asked in a small voice.

Shit. I’d forgotten about their presence.

“No, kiddo.” Justin winked. “Why are you upset? I promise I’m not fighting with daddy.”

“Yeah, no fighting today,” I agreed.

“This stupid rain ruined my nice pants. My shoes are as good as trash. I hate the rain.” Patrick wailed loudly, startling me.

I was by the table, in the process of scooping Peanut up in my arms. “Christ, Patrick. You can be such a drama princess! Do you see your sister acting like that? She’d be entitled to whine so much considering she’s younger.”

“She likes to be dirty. I don’t! I want my clothes nice and clean and perfect, not wet and dirty!”

Justin clapped both hands over his mouth, trying to muffle his hysterical laughter.

“You’re laughing at me! Awesome! I hate you!” Patrick kicked a chair down on his way out of the kitchen, then I could hear him stomping up the stairs, before he slammed the door of his room.

“I can’t!” Justin bent over, holding his stomach.

“Do you want me to slap you out of your laughing fit,” I muttered, not finding Patrick’s tantrum at all funny.

Justin shook his head, hiccupping. He slumped against the counter, taking huge gulps of air. “I just remembered a time you did the very same thing.” And with his admission he burst into a fresh peal of laughter.

I knew the time he was talking about. It was when I took him in after he was released from the hospital and his mother realized I was everything he needed. During one of our strolls down the street, to get him accustomed with the crowds, a rain that could rival the one we had at the moment started out of nowhere. Of course, we ran back home and I threw a bigger tantrum than Patrick.

But back then I didn’t have children, well not living with us. I used to praise my clothes more. Now, with two rascals under the roof, clothes weren’t as important, not when they could get smudged or torn by merely walking by without paying attention.

I still had my good suits and shirts, which I made sure to put on right before leaving the house, and avoid any contact with the kids or walls, but I also had comfy clothes, the way Justin called them. He wore them all the time, but then again, he’d always been anti-fashion.

“I’m going to check on Patrick.”

“We should give him cool-off time,” Justin suggested.

“He might be tearing the room apart by the time he cools off,” I snapped.

“Do you think the chicken we ate earlier was bad?” Peanut asked innocently, fingering the collar of my shirt.

“Where did you go?” Justin inquired.

Don’t tell him, I silently begged Ruby. I even tried distracting her. “No, sweetie. The chicken wasn’t bad. Your brother is a huge drama princess.”

It didn’t stop her from answering Justin, though. “KFC.” Justin’s eyes narrowed at me.

“It’s healthier than McD,” I told him seriously.

“We discussed this, Brian. You avoided these fast-food places religiously, but since we have the kids you love it there!”

“I can’t say no when they beg!” I squeezed Peanut close to my chest. “Pout, sweetie.” I smirked at Justin, turning her head to him. “Now, please, resist this adorableness.”

He scowled, huffing.

“No witty comeback?” I teased.

“Fuck off,” he mouthed. “I’m going to check on Munchkin.”

“It’s best I deal with him. I know how he feels about the clothes. I can relate.”

“Okay, go be two big queens and cry over your clothes. You’re such a pair.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re going to help me make dinner. We like to get dirty, right, Peanut?”

She nodded enthusiastically, squirming out of my arms. I put her down, and she rushed to Justin, jumping at his feet until he picked her up, giving her a big smooch.

“What do you want for dinner? I know what I promised you, but since we have company…” Justin gave me a small smile.

“I bought some chicken legs. The lamb ribs will have to wait,” I agreed. “As for the side dish, take liberties.”

“Mashed potatoes!”

We chuckled at Ruby.

“It’s settled. Go to Patrick. Tell him we still love him even though he’s a bigger queen than his daddy,” Justin joked, leaning to peck my mouth. His eyes fastened on my collar. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you have lipstick on you collar.”

“Don’t be a twat! It’s juice from Peanut. Her can sprayed everywhere in the parking lot. Thank God, it wasn’t in the car.”

“Yeah, your brother would have killed you if you put juice on him too,” Justin said amused.

“Really?” She whispered fearfully.

“No, he wouldn’t have,” I promised.

“Are you sure?”

“Justin! Don’t scare her.”

I went upstairs, and could hear him crying before I reached his door. Seeking divine intervention, I opened the door and stepped inside.

“Go away,” Patrick whined, burrowing further under his pillow.

I sat next to him, stroking a hand over his back. “Now, Munchkin, is this respectable behavior for a big boy?”

“Leave me alone.” He kicked his feet, narrowly missing my stomach.

“Turn around and let’s have a talk.”

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled with his head still under the pillow.

“Then listen to me. Having your clothes ruined isn’t the worst that can happen. There are more horrible things out there to make you cry, and having your clothes dirty isn’t on that list.”

“Are you for real, Dad?” Patrick turned to gape at me. “My clothes are very important. You of all people should understand me!”

I seized the opportunity to move even closer, snuggling with him in the bed. “Like I said, clothes aren’t worth crying over. You’re right, I love my designer clothes and try to keep them safe, but I came to realize they don’t make me happy. You do.”

He shot me an amused look. “Are you comparing me to Armani?”

“As a matter of fact, this is my Armani suit…or was.” I waved to myself. “Do you see me throwing a tantrum that now it’s a pile of damp crap? No.”

He didn’t seem to understand why I was making that comparison.

“Okay. Let’s have it this way. My clothes would never make me smile like you or your sister or Justin can do. They’ll never come to us in the middle of the night saying they missed us. They’ll never make me want to hug them then the very next second to scream at them for making me so angry I want to rip the apart, and then love them a little more.”

“I guess you’re right,” he whispered.

Thank God.

“But…”

Here we go… I braced myself.

“These were my good D&G pants, Dad. The ones I wear only on special occasions. It’s Dada’s fault for making me wear them today.”

“Today is special. It’s the day I met your dad…too many years ago.”

“You can’t even remember how many,” he teased. “You’re that old!”

“Hey!” I dug my fingers into his sides. “Take that back, you little monster.”

“No!” He giggled, squirming around. “You’ve very old.”

“You’re very naughty,” I countered. “Seventeen.”

“Seventeen, what?” He moved away from me.

“Seventeen years ago I met your dad.”

“That’s…a long time.”

“I guess.” I smiled, remembering the moment I saw him under the street lamp.

“You have to tell Rubs and me the story again tonight.”

“Haven’t you outgrown bedtime stories?”

He shook his head. “Not when it comes to hearing how you met Dada.”

“Fine. Remind me after we eat. In the meantime, no more meltdowns about clothes. Let’s help dada and your sister with dinner.”

After changing out of our dirty clothes, we went downstairs. Dinner was almost ready so while the kids placed plates and glasses on the table, I opened a bottle of wine. We couldn’t be on our own to celebrate the way we wanted, but I wasn’t going to leave the day pass without having a drink.

When we sat down to eat, I clinked my glass to Justin, grinning.

“To at least seventeen more,” he said softly, raising from his seat and coming to me, kissing my lips. His fingers curled in my hair as his tongue entangled with mine. “I love you, Brian.”

I pulled him closer until he straddled my legs. “Love you too.”

“Uh, children present,” Patrick cried out.

Justin groaned in protest, sliding away. “No one told you to look,” he joked.

“You’re in my face! Can you do this in your room? Away from us? It’s damn gross.”

“I think it’s sweet that they love each other so much,” Ruby declared, beaming at us.

“Ugh! I’m going to move to the moon. Far away from you.”

“Don’t forget to write.” I kicked him under the table.

He scoffed, picking a piece of bread and throwing it at my head.

“Hey! Watch out!”

“Don’t start,” Justin begged, squeezing my shoulder. “Patrick, we talked about throwing food. And you.” He slapped the back of my head. “Drop the fork. If you get food on his clothes, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

I scowled, shoving the mashed potatoes in my mouth, but keeping my eyes on Patrick. He smirked, thinking he’d won.

“I mean it, Brian. Act your age for once.”

“Now, where would the fun be in that?”

“Sometimes I think I’m more mature than you.” Justin took his seat back, sighing.

“You are,” I said honestly.

“Good to hear that, old man.”

“I’m not speaking to you again.”

“No wonder you get along so well with the kids. You haven’t outgrown their maturity level.”

“Daddy is the best! We love silly Daddy,” Ruby said proudly, rushing into my arms.

I cuddled her close, poking my tongue out at Justin.

“More salad, Munchkin?” He turned to Patrick, deciding to ignore me.

He thrust his plate to Justin, nodding.

When we finished eating, complete with dessert, I sent them to Patrick’s room to get ready for the night and wait for us to tell them the story.

“Not again,” Justin complained when we were alone in the kitchen. “I bet they know the story by heart.”

“But it’s fun to tell them the improved version of it,” I insisted. “I’m surprised we haven’t messed up when telling them on various occasions.”

He checked my hip on his way to the sink. “I prefer the real version. It truly was the best time of my life and I could never forget that night.” He grinned, setting the plates in the dishwasher. “But I’m always up to hear your fairytale. It proves what a hopeless romantic you are to come up with such a beautiful story.”

I fake gagged. “Please, Sunshine. I had to come up with something to sound like their beloved fairytales.”

We went to the kids, ready to tell them my concocted version of how we’d met.

We all got in Munchkin’s bed, barely fitting, but no one cared we got squished. He pressed into my side. Justin leaned against my other side with Peanut draped over his lap.

I cleared my throat as Ruby squealed, clapping. She always got excited about hearing this.

“There was once a lonely man who stepped out of the tavern, ready to head home. It was yet another night when he didn’t find love.”

Justin kissed my shoulder, burrowing closer. “But then as he walked to his chariot, he looked up and saw him—the one.”

I bit my cheek not to laugh when his voice caught. “Of course, he wasn’t sure the man before him would be the one, but he had hope. He invited him back to his palace.”

“The peasant accepted eagerly, realizing such opportunity shouldn’t be missed.”

“They spent a beautiful night together, and by morning the man was lonely no more.”

“He found the one,” Munchkin butted in our story. “And they lived happily ever after,” he added with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, we do fight…” Justin averted.

“We heard this story a million times. I want to know the real one.”

“This is real,” Ruby snapped at him.

“No, it’s not. I heard the family talking about how you picked Dada from under a street lamp and took him home then didn’t want to see him again. But he bugged you until you took him in. Is that true?”

I shared a confused look with Justin. “Who told you that?”

Patrick averted his eyes.

“We won’t be mad. Tell us who.” Justin reached to cup his cheek.

“I eavesdropped. It was Uncle Mike and Uncle Ted. Don’t be mad at them.”

Perfect.

“No matter what you heard, the story you know from us is the one. Don’t let anyone spoil it for you,” Justin told him sternly. “Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight…not for both of us. But we love each other very much.”

“Yes, listen to Sunshine. If I didn’t love him, who knows where we’d be? In a sad place, definitely. Somewhere where you two didn’t exist.”

My words made all the three of them hug me tightly. I thought I heard Justin sniffing, but it wasn’t a lie what I said.

After we made sure they were both asleep, we went to our room with the bottle of wine. It was time to have our much awaited party.

I turned the lock on the door, grinning when Justin whirled around ready to question me. I pressed a finger to his lips, pushing him backwards until he fell on the bed.

“No talking. Fucking.”

“Making love,” he conquered.

“Making love,” I agreed, smiling and descending for a kiss.