“Watch out,” he said as the tip of the sword zipped past his nose. Then he grabbed Evie, wrapping her in a bear hug, and said, “I got you. Now you’re my prisoner. Who’s going to rescue you?”

“Princess no need rescue,” Evie said, landing a vicious whack with the blade against Somers’s shin.

Somers let her go and fell back onto the bed, pretending to have his leg cut off, and Evie shrieked with laughter—and, Hazard thought, a note of victory that was surprisingly ominous, something to be remembered for her teenage years—and then sprinted out of the room.

“Dinner’s ready,” Hazard said, standing, “I just need to get Evie something.”

But Somers hooked a belt loop and pulled him back onto the bed. Hazard landed at an angle and rocked backward, and instead of fighting the momentum, he let himself fall onto his back. Somers’s hand moved up to play with his hair. Hazard reached over, not ready to look at him yet, and found Somers’s leg, the bare skin of Somers’s thigh warm under his hand.

“You’re a really good dad,” Somers said, his fingers combing through Hazard’s long, dark tangles, the simple motion surprisingly pleasant. “I mean, I knew you’d be good, because you’re one of the gentlest, kindest people I know. But you’re really good. Sometimes I can’t believe you’re so perfect at it.”

A horn blared down the street.

After clearing his throat, Hazard said, “Perfect is an absolute value; something’s either perfect or it isn’t. There aren’t degrees.”

Somers laughed. “Duly noted. You are perfect at it. Absolutely.”

“My physics lesson on the principles of a simple machine seems like proof to the contrary. I don’t even think she noticed when I pointed out the fulcrum.”

Laughing again, Somers just kept sifting the long, dark hair.

From Noah and Rebeca’s house next door came the sound of a door slamming shut, and then the hub of kids’ voices. One of the boys, Roman, was screaming something about pizza bagels. Angry screaming.

“God,” Somers said, still scratching lightly at Hazard’s scalp as he combed his hair. He tugged, and Hazard complied by squirming a few inches to the side so that his head rested on Somers’s chest. The slow movement of his fingers never stopped. “When you’re that age, everything seems important. Even pizza bagels.”

“He’s a middle child,” Hazard said. “That’s a hard spot to be in.”

“What would you know? You were an only child.”

“So were you.”

“I know. I loved it.”

Hazard snorted.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Somers asked.

“Of course you loved it.”

“And you didn’t?”

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t know how I would have handled having a sibling. I think I would have preferred not being the focus of my dad’s attention.”

This time, Somers’s hand stopped. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess I would have liked that too.” He took a breath, his chest rising and carrying Hazard’s head up, Hazard suddenly aware of the rapid thrum of Somers’s heartbeat. “Do you think you want more kids?”