18. Damon

Any nerves I'd had about uprooting George vanished. He loved his new home. He loved the land, the bungalow, and he loved his new school. But most of all, he loved not having to go back and forth or having Nicholas go back and forth. He welcomed the feeling of being settled in.

I did too. I hadn't realized how much that had been wearing on me, on us as a whole. Sure, we loved each other and the time we spent together, but it carried with it its own stressors.

George woke us up early this morning. He'd been promised pancakes in fun shapes, and while none of the shapes looked like what they were meant to, Nicholas did a great job at renaming them to something sort of close. The dog giraffe rhino was a bit of a stretch, but George still gobbled it up.

He was thrilled that it was finally Sunday, finally the day we planned to build a new cat condo for Fluffy FooFoo.The cardboard one hadn't been sturdy enough to move with us. Nicholas told him he had a plan and took many, many pictures of it. And today, that plan was coming into fruition.

I'd been worried about how things would be with a cat living with the dragon where he would actually come in contact with the beast. I shouldn't have worried. The two of them were best buds in both forms. It was all kinds of adorable.

Nicholas had found a supply of plastic boards they were going to use to construct the house. He figured it would be light enough that we could move it as needed, but also manageable for George to work with. Wood would not have only been extremely heavy, but it would have meant that Nicholas was doing all the "work" work. And for some kids, that might have been fine, but not for George. He was in this for the entire experience. He adored trying to figure out how to piece everything together.

They both assured me that they had a plan for how to get it in the house, and I just let them have it.

The truth was, I wasn't feeling very well. For the past couple of days, I'd been under the weather. I'd just started a new library job nearby. It was only a few days a week and already I managed to catch something. I probably caught it from one of the toddlers there. Toddlers and their storytime were full-on germ factories. Cute as they were, they were also pretty gross. I still loved storytime. I was just grumpy about feeling yuck.

I looked out the window, watching my guys. They were so intense but also having a blast. I thought about going out there with a cup of tea but decided to take a nap. I was exhausted.

"Come on, Fluffy FooFoo. When you wake up, maybe you'll have a new house."

I set my tea down and went into my room, climbed into bed. I barely remembered the cat joining me before I fell asleep. My nap turned out to be not a nap at all. Not in the truest sense. It was more like a mini bedtime, hours having passed by while I slumbered.

It was dark when my mate came in to make sure I was okay.

"I didn't want to disturb you, but I was starting to get worried." He sat on the edge of the bed.

"No, don't be worried. I think I caught something from work, is all." At least I hoped that was all. I sat up and stretched. "I guess I needed that. I've been so tired."

"I made spaghetti."

Normally, it was one of my favorite foods, but today, the thought of tomato sauce just didn't sit well with me.

"Okay, I'll be right there." I went to the bathroom, washed my face, and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look sick, but boy, did I still look exhausted. If I wasn't better soon, I was gonna have to call a doctor, but it really was probably nothing.

George was finishing setting the table when I walked in. It was his favorite job. Not sure why he thought it was such grand fun, but he did. Probably something about being big. Being helpful and all.

"Looks great." I sat in the seat I always did.

"Wait till you see the garlic bread I made." He looked at me, and his jaw dropped open. "Whoa."

"What do you mean ‘whoa'?" Did I really look that bad?

"Drad, did you maybe turn Daddy into a dragon?"

"What do you mean? Turning Daddy into a dragon?"

"What's going on?" Nicholas came out of the kitchen.

"Did you turn Daddy into a dragon? I'm not mad. Accidents happen." George sounded like a little old man.

"That's not possible." Nicholas said. "It would be cool if I could. Then you could be a little dragon too."

"I'd be a unicorn," George mumbled under his breath. "But Daddy is for sure a dragon. If you didn't do it, who did?"

Nicholas squatted down in front of him. "What do you mean, George?"

"Look at him. He's a dragon."

Nicholas closed his eyes and looked as if he was arguing with himself. The entire time I stood there, not knowing how to make the conversation and situation any better. And when he opened his eyes again, his expression was unreadable.

"Let's go outside, you and me," Nicholas said. "Or more like all three of us. I think my dragon needs to see something."

George walked out as if this was just random normal stuff we did. I, on the other hand, was nervous. My son thought I was a dragon, and given that he had the ability to know these things, it had to mean something, right?

"What's going on?" I asked my mate when our son was far enough ahead he wouldn't hear.

"I'll let you know when I know." Nicholas took my hand. "Gotta let my dragon out for a minute. Okay?"

I trusted him more than anything. Of course, I was going to follow him, but I was also unsure where this was heading. Nicholas followed George as he led us to where Nicholas liked to shift.

My mate took off his clothes and turned into his dragon. George loved seeing him like this. He was sure one day he could build some sort of harness and ride Drad's back. He'd even drawn pictures of the prototype. That was so not going to happen, but I appreciated his ingenuity.

Nicholas stood there, sniffing the air for a second, and then came over to me, sniffing gently before he nuzzled my hand. He did the same to George and then took off into the air. He was magnificent when he was flying. His agility amazed me, and the way the light at dusk reflected off his scales from time to time was a work of wonder. When he came back down, he took his skin and put his clothes back on almost immediately.

"I don't think spaghetti dinner's gonna work for making you feel better."

"Why not?" I mean, I agreed that the sauce sounded absolutely dreadful, but that didn't sound like what he meant.

"Because spaghetti is not for celebrations. Celebrations require ice cream."

"Ice cream!" George squeed.

"Ice cream? Am I missing something?" I asked.

Nicholas came over and put his hand on my belly.

"No, you got an extra something in your middle. You're not sick, my love, and I did not turn you into a dragon. But George is right about there being a dragon."

I set my hand on his.

"Do you mean Daddy's dragon?" George figured out the clues long before my brain caught up. "I'm gonna have a dragon brother or sister? Or both! I'd love both."

"What?" Of course it could be possible. It wasn't as if we ever did anything to prevent having another child. We also hadn't planned for one.

Nicholas brought his lips close to my ear. "Are you happy? Because I'm happy. We're going to be fathers… again."

Even in this happy moment, the one where he was going to be a biological father for the first time, he didn't push George aside. I'd seen so many bonus fathers do that, and it broke my heart each and every time. George would never feel that way. Nicholas made sure of that.

His words swirled in my mind. "I'm equally as happy, but maybe let's not do ice cream tonight. Maybe we can just do spaghetti with no sauce. Or crackers?"

"Yeah, let's do noodles. And celebratory crackers," he agreed.

"But I can still have ice cream, right?" George ran over and gave us a group hug. "Because I was the one who noticed, I should for sure get ice cream."

"Yes, big brother, you can still have ice cream. And unless the crackers make me feel a thousand percent better, you can have mine too."

"I'd rather you feel better, Daddy." He started to run toward the house, looking back long enough to tell us to hurry.

And we did.