It Goes On - Book l

Thanksgiving with the Riley's - Part 2

Simon's Point of View:

"Baler! The cookies are done!" I heard Kiera shout from the kitchen, the rest of us still gathered around the table in the dining room, chatting about whatever quite literally came across our minds. Teeter had been groaning of pelvic pain and eventually dismissed herself from the table to seek advice from Kiera.

Johnny and I were working on our third plate of food. Yeah, I said it – our third plate. We had no shame as we knew we were big men with a high metabolism, especially since we had been used to nothing but rubbish MRE's throughout our last deployment. Eva's deviled eggs were delightful, and Kiera's sweet potato casserole was to die for. In fact, I eventually got the entire pan from the kitchen myself to bring back to the table after everyone got a serving of it, asking if anyone else wanted a second helping of it before it was all mine.

"And you get first dibs!" She added again, knowing that before Baler joined our family, I always got first dibs on her homemade holiday cookies. Fuck, I couldn't wait for Christmas. This woman spoiled me by keeping my stomach full, and I spoiled her by keeping her wallet full.

And her belly – if you know what I mean.

Her wish and dreams of having a house full of children – one for every room – was my bloody command, and I was just as excited to see her wish come true. I loved being a father, far more than I would've ever thought. I just hoped that I was fortunate enough to watch every single one of them grow up into adults to repeat the cycle of family gatherings and birthdays.

"Love?" I called from the dining room, hoping that she would just reply to me instead of walking all the way back to the dining room as I didn't want her to be on her feet for a long period of time.

"Yes?" She hummed, peeking her head around the corner with that beautiful smile on her face, her eyes gleaming with happiness and her diamond ring glistening in the light of the house.

"I hope you and your mum aren't cleaning up without my help?"

"Um... We are, but you don't have to help, babe. You and Johnny can sit and talk if you want—"

"Don't you dare pick up another dish to wash," I arched my brow at her playfully, hating that she had programmed herself to think that her role was to clean up after everyone immediately after dinner, or to always do the laundry and mop the floors. I wanted her and her mother to just sit around and talk, laugh about memories and talk about the future and plans instead of immediately thinking that they needed to clean as soon as dinner was over. "I'll do the rest. You and your mum go relax and put on your favorite show—"

"Yeah, K. L.T. and I will clean up." Johnny nodded.

"And me." Baler added, gathering his plate and glass before standing to his feet, pushing in his chair.

"Are you all sure? You don't have to. I don't mind."

"We're sure, love." I assured her with a smile.

"We'll even clean up the table and mop the floor," Baler said. "Get off your feet, momma."

I smiled as I watched her nod, not wanting to accept the fact that she had to leave the pile of dishes I was sure she was soaking in the sink and leave it to us to finish for her. She always hated when I didn't let her clean because she went overboard every time, and I was sure she was OCD at some point because she had a strict habit of cleaning, whether it be the kitchen, bathroom, or bedroom, it went in this specific order:

- Sweep the floor.

- Dust the baseboards.

- Sweep again.