“Don’t worry. In ten, fifteen years, I’ll be a bada… uh… I mean, I’ll be tough. They’ll be good,” Zander reassured Ham. Then he asked, “Do you work out?”

“Most every day,” Ham answered and it occurred to me that Zander was bonding with Ham and this might not be because he was uncomfortable around me, being his newly-learned-was-dead mother’s sister, but because he had no man in his life.

“Looks like you do it, like, five times a day,” Zander noted, his eyes moving to Ham’s wide chest.

“Only need to do it once, boy, just do it right,” Ham replied.

“You know,” Aunt Wilona broke in, “if… erm… Uncle, uh… Reece would be okay with it, maybe you could, I don’t know… go running with him or something.”

My eyes went to my aunt and for the first time in my whole entire life, I wanted to hug her.

Then I looked to Zander as he bounced in his seat, completely oblivious that Trudy had arrived with a tray full of drinks and plates of cake.

“That would be so cool!” he cried.

“I run five miles every day, Zander. Can you keep up with that?” Ham asked.

“Totally,” Zander answered, then looked at me. “Are you going to run with us?”

I really wanted to say yes. I really, really did. But I also didn’t want to drop dead of a heart attack trying to run with Ham and Zander when I’d never run for exercise in my life. In fact, I couldn’t even remember the last time I ran at all.

“I’ll get the protein shakes ready for your arrival home,” I offered.

“Awesome,” Zander whispered and finally looked at the cake that was sliding in front of him.

It was then he burned a whole straight through my heart.

Because Trudy got too close to the picture of Xenia with the plate of cake.

So Zander’s hand darted out, snatching it up, taking it to safety, and doing this by pressing it face-first to his chest.

I dropped my head, stared at my lap, and deep breathed as my eyes filled with tears.

Ham wrapped his hand around the back of my neck.

I kept doing this until I heard Zander say, sounding like his mouth was full, “This is really good!”

I looked up and saw his mouth was full and getting fuller as he was shoving more cake into it.

The picture of Xenia was propped up on the table by the wall, face out and out of harm’s way.

I swallowed, pulled gently away from Ham, and grabbed my fork.

I took a bite and looked to my aunt.

She was concentrating on her cake so it took a minute before she felt my eyes, lifted her head, and caught them.

I swallowed cake and mouthed, Thank you.

Tears brightened her eyes as relief washed through her face.

Then she nodded and looked down at her cake.

Ham gave my thigh a squeeze and then picked up his fork.

Zander looked at me and, still with mouth full, announced, “I get all A’s in science but don’t get excited, I get C’s in English. It used to drive Nona nuts but finally she said as long as I can speak it, it isn’t necessary for me to live and breathe it and scientists are way cool so I’m good.”

I smiled as he went on talking and I experienced something very weird as he did.

The weird part wasn’t falling in love with my nephew. I knew I’d do that.

The weird part was falling in love with my aunt.

That was something I never thought I’d do.

* * *

We were on the sidewalk outside The Mark, Aunt Wilona and I a bit away from Zander and Ham, who’d walked down to take a look at his truck.

But not too far away that we didn’t hear Zander yell, “That truck is huge!”

I watched Ham smile down at him and my belly felt weird. Like I had butterflies. And it hit me that this was because, at that moment, I understood in a visceral way that Ham would be a good father. And that would mean a good father to our kids.

And a good uncle to his nephew.

Holding that feeling close with the warmth of sharing a mud pie with my nephew, I turned to Aunt Wilona and did what I had to do.

I reached out, touched her forearm, and stopped.

She looked down to her arm where my hand had touched, looked at me, and stopped, too.

“Does he ask about his dad?” I asked, bracing for her answer because Xenia had narrowed it down to two guys. Only one was still in town but Zander didn’t look like either of them.

She gave a brief nod. “Started asking about his parents a year or so ago. Being careful with it. Xavier didn’t want me to say anything so I danced around it until, of course, after the, uh…”

She trailed off and I nodded to let her know I understood.

“I don’t know who his father is, Aunt Wilona,” I admitted. “And neither did Xenia. Not for certain.”

She looked toward Zander and murmured, “My niece had demons.”

I was grateful she understood that. In the coming years, sharing with Zander about his mother, it would be important.

“I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I said quietly.

“You know your father,” she replied and my eyes sharpened on her.

“Yes, Aunt Wilona, I do and I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I repeated firmly.

She held my eyes and whispered, “He doesn’t hurt him.”

“Zander seems very high-spirited,” I noted. “Except when he’s talking about Dad. Then he seems confused.”

“Your father is a hard man,” Aunt Wilona said. “Zander is a nine-year-old boy. He doesn’t understand hard.”

“Abuse comes in many forms,” I returned. “And all of them are hard.”

“I wouldn’t allow that to happen,” she retorted quickly and sharply. “We’d disappear before that happened. Zander hasn’t been alone in your father’s presence since he was six months old.”

I let out a relieved breath for a variety of reasons.

It was coming clear that Aunt Wilona was not like my mother. She was a lioness with my nephew. She raised him. She obviously loved him. And most important, when it came to my dad, she protected him.

“It’s very difficult living under this cloud, especially since I have to keep it from Zander,” she went on and I focused on her. “Do you and Reece know what you intend to do?”

“About Zander, not yet,” I answered, then gave her a hint of the relief she gave me. “We’re concerned about him gettin’ caught in this storm. We’d like to avoid doing that and we want to find ways to work with you to accomplish that. But you should know, the clouds are gathering and, tomorrow, Dad is not going to be very happy.”