The babysitter

One Year Later

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of the Bradford home, casting gentle shadows across the living room where Emma sat cross-legged on the carpet, carefully arranging her toy blocks in a perfect circle around her baby brother's bouncy seat.

"Shh, Evan," Emma whispered, her six-year-old voice taking on the serious tone she'd adopted since becoming a big sister. "Mommy's still sleeping, and Daddy said we have to be quiet mice." She placed a stuffed elephant next to the bouncy seat and gently touched Evan's tiny hand. "Look, I brought Mr. Peanuts to play with you."

Three-week-old Evan gurgled softly, his dark eyes—so much like Tim's—tracking the colorful mobile spinning slowly above him. For once, he wasn't crying, and Emma considered this a personal victory. She'd been trying all morning to keep him entertained while their parents caught up on much-needed sleep.

From upstairs, Lucy stirred in bed, her body still tender from childbirth but her heart full in ways she'd never imagined possible. The sound of Emma's gentle chatter drifted up through the floorboards, and despite her exhaustion, she couldn't help but smile. Emma had taken to her role as big sister with such determination and love.

Tim's arm tightened around Lucy's waist as he sensed her waking. "Morning, beautiful," he murmured against her hair, his voice still thick with sleep. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Lucy admitted with a soft laugh, "but happy. Is that Emma I hear downstairs?"

"Mmm," Tim nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder. "She's been up for an hour, playing with Evan. I peeked down earlier—she's got the whole living room set up like some kind of baby entertainment center."

Lucy's heart swelled with affection for her stepdaughter. The transition to being Emma's mom had been natural, but watching Emma embrace her role as big sister had been something truly special. Even when Evan cried through the night—which he did, religiously, at 2 AM and 4 AM—Emma would often appear in their doorway, asking if she could help.

"We should probably go rescue her," Lucy said, though she made no move to get up. These quiet moments with Tim were precious now, stolen between feedings and diaper changes and the beautiful chaos of their expanded family.

"Five more minutes," Tim negotiated, pulling her closer. "Emma's got it handled, and you need the rest."

Downstairs, Emma had moved on to reading to her baby brother from one of her picture books. "'And the little bunny said goodnight to the stars,'" she read carefully, holding up the book so Evan could see the pictures, even though she knew he couldn't really focus on them yet. "See, Evan? That's what we do at bedtime. Except you don't like bedtime very much, do you?"

As if summoned by her words, Evan's face scrunched up, and he let out the beginnings of what Emma had learned to recognize as his hungry cry.

"Uh oh," Emma said, jumping to her feet. "Daddy! Mommy! Evan's getting cranky!"

Within seconds, Tim appeared at the top of the stairs, his hair sticking up at odd angles but his face alert with the instant responsiveness of a new parent. "Everything okay down there?"

"He's hungry," Emma announced with the authority of someone who'd become an expert in baby behavior over the past three weeks.

Tim jogged down the stairs and scooped Evan up from his bouncy seat, the baby's cries immediately softening at his father's familiar touch. "Hey there, buddy," Tim cooed, bouncing gently. "Let's get Mommy, huh?"

Lucy appeared a few minutes later, moving slowly but with a smile on her face. She'd pulled on one of Tim's old police academy t-shirts and a pair of comfortable pajama pants, her hair gathered in a messy bun. To Tim, she'd never looked more beautiful.

"Someone's impatient for breakfast," she said, settling into the rocking chair they'd moved into the living room for exactly this purpose. Tim carefully transferred Evan to her arms, and the baby immediately began rooting around, making Lucy laugh softly.

Emma climbed onto the couch nearby, watching with fascination as her mom began nursing her brother. The first few times, she'd been full of questions, but now she'd settled into the routine, often using this quiet time to tell them about her dreams or plans for the day.

"Mommy," Emma said, pulling her knees up to her chest, "do you think Evan will like playing dress-up when he's bigger? I want to put him in my princess dress."

Tim snorted with laughter from the kitchen, where he'd started the coffee maker. "I think we might need to get him his own costume, Em."

"Or we could get him a prince costume," Emma decided. "Then we could be a royal family. You could be the king, Daddy, and Mommy could be the queen."

"What would Evan be?" Lucy asked, adjusting her hold on the baby as he settled into feeding.

"The baby prince, obviously," Emma said with the exasperation of someone explaining something very simple to adults who should know better.

Tim returned with a mug of coffee for Lucy, placing it carefully on the side table within her reach. These small gestures had become second nature to him—anticipating her needs, making sure she stayed hydrated, creating little pockets of comfort in the demanding routine of new parenthood.

"Thank you," Lucy murmured, looking up at him with eyes full of love and gratitude. Even in her exhausted state, even with her body still recovering, she felt overwhelmed by how perfectly their life had come together.

"You know," Tim said, settling onto the couch next to Emma and pulling her onto his lap, "a year ago, I was just hoping Lucy might want to be my girlfriend."

Emma giggled. "And now she's my mommy and Evan's mommy and your wife!"

"Well, almost wife," Tim corrected gently. "The wedding's not until next month, remember?"

Emma bounced excitedly. "And I get to throw flower petals!"

"Flower petals," Lucy corrected with a smile. "And yes, you do."

The morning continued in the gentle rhythm they'd established—Emma chattering about everything and nothing, Evan cycling between feeding and sleeping and the occasional bout of unexplained fussiness, and Tim moving between them all, making sure everyone's needs were met.

Around noon, after Evan had been fed, changed, and was having another of his brief periods of alert contentment, the family gathered on the couch for what had become their favorite weekend tradition: a movie and lunch. Emma had chosen an animated film about talking animals, and she provided running commentary while balanced carefully next to Lucy, who held Evan against her shoulder.

"This is my favorite part," Emma announced as the characters began singing. "Can we sing it, Daddy?"

Tim looked at Lucy, who nodded with an amused smile despite her tiredness. Soon, all three of them were singing along—Tim with his off-key but enthusiastic baritone, Emma with her pure, childish soprano, and Lucy humming softly so as not to disturb the baby.

It was in moments like these that Lucy felt the full weight of how much her life had changed. A year and a half ago, she'd been coming home to an empty apartment, wondering if she'd ever find someone to share her life with. Now she was part of this beautiful, chaotic, perfect family—a mom to both Emma and Evan, Tim's partner in every sense of the word, and somehow exactly where she was meant to be.

"I love our family," Emma said suddenly, as if reading Lucy's thoughts.

"Me too, sweetheart," Lucy replied, pressing a kiss to the top of Emma's head while simultaneously patting Evan's back. "Me too."

Tim reached over and squeezed Lucy's free hand, his eyes meeting hers with an expression that said everything he couldn't put into words in front of Emma. Later, after Emma was in bed and Evan was having one of his longer sleeps, they'd have a few minutes to themselves—to talk, to reconnect, to remember that they were not just parents and partners, but also two people who had chosen each other and continued choosing each other every day.

But for now, this was perfect—the four of them together, Emma's laughter mixing with Evan's soft baby sounds, Tim's steady presence anchoring them all, and Lucy finally, truly home.