Happy, Happy Birthday, Baby

chapter 7 - END

2 years later...

Liberty and Phoenix, now 5-years-old, ran into the living room excitedly, their cute little backpacks still firmly on their backs and moving around with them as they went - Liberty's a butterfly and Phoenix's a frog.

"Papa!" Liberty squealed, scampering up onto the couch and launching herself into Zacky's arms.

"Bertie!" Zacky laughed, pressing kissed to her face, making her giggle as he always did.

It was true that Liberty and Phoenix were twins, 11 minutes apart, but Zacky had always found himself to have a closer bond with his daughter. It wasn't that he loved her any more than he loved his son. It was that Phoenix had always been much closer to Brian, being a little shy around his Papa even after five years. He wanted a closer bond with his son, but he wanted to take it at the little boy's pace.

"I made you a pitcher, Papa," Liberty grinned, handing a folded piece of yellow construction paper to Zacky.

Zacky unfolded the paper and smiled at the stick figure drawing. "And who's this?" he asked, as if he didn't already know or at least have a clue.

"Dat's you and me and Nixie and Icky and Pinkly and Moot..." The little girl took a deep breath. "And dat's Daddy and Beebee!" she finished happily.

"It's so pretty, Bertie. I love it. It's my favorite picture of our family ever!" Zacky smiled, hugging his daughter tightly and kissing her forehead.

Phoenix's bottom lip trembled as tears filled his eyes. "Daddy!" he cried out, running over to Brian and throwing his arms around his daddy's waist.

"Phoenix?" Zacky called out after the little boy and sighed when he got no reply.

Brian looked down at his son in bewilderment. He set the baby carrier holding his and Zacky's sleeping 7-month-old daughter, Crosby Brianna, down on the floor and then crouched down to his son's level. "What's wrong, Nixie?" he asked softly, his heart breaking when his son turned his tear-filled brown eyes up to look at him.

"Papa...Papa..." Phoenix hiccupped.

"Take a deep breath and then tell Daddy what's wrong, son," Brian coaxed softly, running gentle fingers through his son's hair.

Phoenix wiped a forearm over his face and sniffled. "Papa doesn't like my pitcher. He loves Bertie's pitcher, but not mine," the little boy said sadly, his bottom lip quivering and his eyes filling with even more tears, forcing some to slide down his flushed cheeks.

"What? Oh, Nixie, I'm sure Papa loves your picture, too. I'm sure he'll be really happy to have it."

Phoenix shook his head emphatically. "Nuh-uh! Papa didn't even want it! He hates my pitcher and he hates me!" the little boy sobbed out, ripping his carefully drawn picture in half and running upstairs, into his room with Pinkly, Icky and Majesty chasing after him, and throwing himself down on his bed, where the two smaller of the dogs hopped up and snuggled up around him. The Great Dane laid on the floor beside the bed, looking up at the upset 5-year-old with big brown eyes, filled with concern.

Zacky walked up to Brian then, Liberty perched on one of his hips. "What's goin' on? Is Nixie having a tantrum?" he asked.

Brian arched his eyebrow. "A tantrum?" He sighed and rolled his eyes, picking up the torn light blue construction paper and putting it into one of his leather jacket pockets. He stood up and lifted the baby carrier from the floor and peered in at the calmest, quietest member of the Baker-Haner family, or Zoo-Circus as they both liked to call it more often than not.