My eyes start to water at the boys trying to stand up for me and my messy parenting skills.

Darren crumbles at the sight of my watering eyes. He rushes across the lawn to me and leans forward. He places a hand on my belly soothingly. That always has an immediate effect on my emotions and my libido.

“It’s just the pregnancy hormones,” I laugh. “I’m crying because they think I’m good at Alien Overlord. Don’t let me off the hook.”

“Nate thinks you’re good,” Danny says. “I’m still number one on the leaderboard.”

I cut my wet eyes at him.

“No, you’re not,” Nate says.

“Yeah, Jason Xu is,” I add.

“In this house,” Danny corrects. “I’m number one in this house.”

“Is this really important?” Darren asks.

“Yes!” Danny, Nate, and I say all at once.

“Who made Jourdan cry?” Nadia calls from the sliding door that leads into the kitchen.

“Dad!” both boys yell and then rush across the lawn toward their mother.

“Traitors,” Darren says.

“If I could still run, I’d be right there with them,” I say, placing my hand over his on my stomach.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he says. “How do you feel?”

“The waddle is very pronounced today, but Jamiel is chilling, actually. He knows you’re grilling, and I told him if he behaves, I will eat every rib in sight.” I lift my eyebrows suggestively.

Darren shakes his head and laughs, and then he leans forward and brushes a kiss right around where my now-protruding belly button is poking through the fabric of my dress. “You’re a good parent,” he whispers.

“I floated the idea of running a child over so the boys could win.”

Darren looks horrified but somehow still loving when our eyes meet.

“I mean, I was mostly joking, but the boys really want this championship.”

I can see Darren’s brain working. “I think you need to start coming to practice next season.”

“So I can scope out the competition?”

“So you can hear Coach Leander talk about good sportsmanship.”

“Sounds boring.”

Darren laughs and stands. He bends over and brushes his mouth against mine. “Definitely need to hear those lectures. Especially if this one is going to play a sport.”

“I hope it’s football,” Danny says, running back toward us, a glass bowl of green salad in his arms.

“I was thinking tennis,” Nate adds, a pan of macaroni and cheese in his grasp. My stomach rumbles. Jamiel and I are very interested in that.

“Or chess,” Nadia says wistfully, a pitcher of sweet tea in one hand and salad dressing in the other.