The twins still had their moments, but their attitudes were slowly improving, and they’d warmed up to Easton even more than before. They didn’t call him Dad, but that’d come with time.

That Sunday, Easton proposed we take a drive to Cooper and Izzy’s house. They lived in one of the older neighborhoods in Seattle where all the timber barons and shipping magnates had once lived. The houses were huge and well maintained despite their age, and many, like Cooper’s, had incredible water views. I never tired of looking at them, even if only from the street.

We promised the kids ice cream when we finished. Even though the day was cold and dreary, they didn’t care. They wanted their ice cream.

The four of us piled in his SUV with Mona in the back and drove up the hill. Easton turned down a street before Coop’s.

“Hey, isn’t this the wrong street?”

“I want to show you something.” He was acting very suspicious, and I didn’t have any idea what he might be up to. The kids were arguing in the back seat and not paying any attention.

He pulled down a long, winding driveway. The bushes and trees needed a good trimming. As the driveway opened up, there was an unkempt lawn and a large, craftsman-style mansion. It was in need of TLC and a good coat of paint, but the house was beautiful, with a wide front porch that wrapped around to the back.

“Want to see it? I happen to have a key.”

“Why would you have a key to this house?”

“Just go along with me.” He got out of the car and opened the passenger door. The kids piled out along with Mona and ran up the cracked and uneven sidewalk, overgrown with weeds, and onto the porch, peeking in the windows.

Easton took my hand. “A condo is no place to raise kids, and Mona needs room to run. Rusty needs mice to hunt. I know it needs work, but I thought you and I would have a good time fixing it up together. My realtor assures me it has good bones, and all the repairs are cosmetic.”

I gaped at him in absolute shock. “What are you saying?”

“It’s ours.” He pushed open the door as he said the words, and the kids ran shouting happily into the house.

I walked inside the old house and stared in absolute wonder at the woodwork and the hardwood floors. We walked to the back and the view of Puget Sound was spectacular. The backyard was large, with ample space for kids and dog to run and play.

Heath emerged from one of the rooms and stopped in front of us. “Mom, you have to see this huge fireplace.” He hesitated, his solemn dark eyes focused on me. “You need to see it, too, Dad.”

My eyes filled with tears, and when I glanced at Easton, he was wiping his face. “We’ll be right there.” His husky voice cracked, and I smiled encouragingly at him.