Laura
One year later
Dinner with two small boys had become less about eating and more about keeping food somewhere in the general area of the table.
“Evan, your chicken belongs on your plate.”
“I know.”
“Then why is it in your hand?”
He looked at the piece of chicken he was holding as though he had only just discovered it there.
“I’m eating it.”
“You’ve been holding it for five minutes.”
Across from me, Austin smacked his spoon against his high-chair tray and sent a glob of mashed potatoes dangerously close to my face.
I closed my eyes.
This was my life and I loved it.
“Austin, no.”
He grinned.
That grin was pure Stephen, which somehow made it even more irritating.
I took the spoon from him and attempted another bite. He immediately turned his head.
“You were screaming beca
