When he became tired, they stopped.
The unopened parcels remained for morning.
Nobody told him gratitude required immediate enthusiasm.
At bedtime, he asked whether his mother could help with the story.
“Of course,” Sebastian said.
The three of them sat together.
It had been years since that arrangement felt easy.
Tonight, nobody asked it to mean more than it did.
Two parents.
One child.
A book with a ridiculous dragon.
When the story ended, Teddy reached for Sebastian’s sleeve.
“If I don’t do the points tomorrow…”
“There won’t be points for being my son.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“What about bad things?”
“We’ll talk about what happened. You might need to fix something or have a sensible consequence.”
“Like if I break a window?”
“Yes.”
“Would I eat?”
“Yes.”
“Would you still be my dad?”
Sebastian moved closer.
“I was your dad before you knew how to do anything at all.”
Teddy watched him.
“You couldn’t carry a tray. You couldn’t say thank you. You couldn’t even hold your own head up.”
A faint smile appeared.
“I could probably burp.”
“You were excellent at that.”
Teddy laughed.
Then his face became serious again.
“Was I enough then?”
Sebastian took his hand.
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Yes.”
Mara placed her hand over the blanket.
“You aren’t a job interview, Teddy.”
His son looked between them.
For the first time that evening, he seemed tired in the ordinary way a child should be tired after a birthday.
They stayed until he slept.
Downstairs, Lavinia waited in the sitting room.
She looked at Mara.
“So now we’re bringing the ex-wife into our marriage.”
Mara did not rise to it.
“I’m here because our son asked for me.”
“Our son,” Lavinia repeated.
Sebastian stepped beside the doorway.
