Joey probably thought I was overdoing it on her quinceanera, but I wanted to spoil her rotten on this one.  She always had great birthday parties, but this one was going to be off the hook.  My mom was going crazy, but I told her to spare no expense.  We would have all of Joey's favorite things and people and it would be an amazing night.

The day finally arrived.  I had a tradition of waking her up the morning of her birthday to a serenade because, well, I'm me.  I sing every chance I get.  I padded down to the kitchen before anyone else was up and made chocolate chip pancakes.  Once I'd made the first batch of two, I put them on a tray, along with butter, syrup and silverware.  I found a candle, pushing it into the middle of the stack, and then lit it.  I cupped my hand around the small flame and walked to my daughter's room.

I pushed the door open and began singing with great gusto.  "Happy birthday to you!"

I grinned as she opened her eyes and smirked. 

"Happy birthday to you!" I continued and she rolled over and began to sit up.  "Happy birthday dear Josephine!  Happy birthday to you!"

She pushed herself back against her headboard and I set the tray in her lap, then planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Make a wish!"

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, opened them, then blew out the candle.  I clapped with great exaggeration like she was a little kid as she pulled out the candle and set it on the plate.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," I told her as she picked up the knife to get some butter.

"Thanks, Daddy," she told me, smiling up at me.  Most teenagers hated their parents showering attention on them, I thought, but my Joey still didn't seem to mind.  I hoped this would continue through her teenage years.

"Of course," I told her, running my hand over my messy mop.  I had decided to start growing it out again.  Pippa had confessed she found me really sexy with a man bun and I wanted to please her.  It was just starting to become long enough to pull back with an elastic. 

Joey's birthday had fallen on a Friday and the party would be that night.  She'd go to school like usual and then Pippa was going to take her to get her hair done.  Her mom was flying in that afternoon.  I had a short chat with my daughter, who was still waking up, and then went next door to check on Jack.  He was sitting up, hands gripping the side of his crib.

"What's up, little guy?" I asked him, and he let out a little happy grunt.  I exaggerated a smile and scooped him up, pressing kisses all over his chubby face.  He looked so much like his father.  I took him to the changing table to get a fresh diaper, then we were off to the kitchen to get some breakfast started.

Soon, the whole house was up and active.  Pippa and I were busy getting the little kids fed and stopping them from doing dangerous and messy things like pouring milk (which Alex attempted) and standing on the chair to look at a pigeon at our window (twice).

I gave Joey a kiss on the cheek and wished her a happy birthday again.  Then, it was just Pippa and me and the kids.  Pippa was rushing around because she had a meeting a 9 and needed to take Alex to preschool.  I squeezed her hip and offered to help, telling her not to worry.  In all her rushing, she managed to drop a heavy lunch ice pack on her bare too.

"Shit!" she cursed, and I could tell she was super stressed.  I leaned down and grabbed it off the floor as she winced in pain and curled her toes.

"Ouch," I commented, setting the pack in Alex's Dora lunchbox.  "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she kind of huffed, opening the fridge to find a Go-Gurt for Alex.  She picked out one and was about to toss it in when Alex protested.

"No!  I want bear-bearcies!" she demanded.  Alex couldn't yet pronounced blueberries, so she called them bear-bearcies.  The problem was that Go-Gurt came in packs of 20 with a variety of flavors.  Alex only seemed to want the blueberry.

"Alex, there aren't any left," Pippa told her, tossing the item in.  Alex immediately lost it.  She went boneless, letting herself collapse on the floor with an epic tantrum.  Pippa's hands went to her face.

"Goooood!!" she grasped at her hair as Alex screamed.  I walked over to where Alex laid and scooped her up.  She was completely limp as I carried her to her bedroom, where I laid her down on her bed.  Without another word, I left her there and closed the door.  When I got back to the kitchen, Pippa was sniffling and was wiping at a few tears that had spilled out.  She tried to busy herself, but my hands on her hips stopped her.  I turned her around to face me.

"Babe, what's wrong?" I asked, searching her face.

She breathed out.  "I'm sorry.  I'm just stressed about tonight."

"Tonight?" I asked, confused.  "Why?"

She looked me in the eye.  "Clarita."

My ex, and Joey's mother.  This was surprising to me, as they'd always seemed to get along just fine.

"Why?  Did she say something to you?" I asked her.

She dropped her head for a moment, shifting her weight.  "No, not really.  It's just...I feel like she resents me a bit, you know?  She and Joey don't get along and here I am, living with her.  We have a pretty good relationship, and I just think Clarita hates that."

"Then that's her problem," I told her honestly.  "She should want what's best for her daughter.  If that means she's a little uncomfortable with you, then too bad for her.  But, Pip, I've never thought she's had a problem with you."

Pippa wasn't normally this emotional, and she was still on the verge of tears.  She nodded and rested her forehead against mine.  "Okay.  You're right.  I'm probably over-thinking things."

"It happens," I said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.  "Why don't you finish getting ready and I'll take Alex to preschool.  That'll save you a few minutes."

"You sure?" she asked.

"Absolutely," I said, noticing I didn't hear Alex crying anymore.  Usually she was pretty quick to bounce back, but I still needed to have a talk with her.  Pippa thanked me and we kissed, then I went down the hallway to find Alex.  She was on her bed, rubbing at her eyes.  I gave her a small smile as I came in.

"Hi, cranky pants," I greeted her lightheartedly.  She grumbled as I sat on her bed and pulled her into my lap.  I kissed her slightly sweaty head.  "Why are you so upset?"

"Bear-bearcies are my favorite," she told me as we cuddled.

"I know they are," I acknowledged.  "But the grocery store sells the yogurt in big boxes.  We have to eat the other flavors too."

"But I don't wike it!" she grumbled some more, her little feet kicking.

"Well, sometimes there are things in life we don't like," I told her.  Life was gonna be full of stuff like that, so she needed to learn how to deal with it.  I wasn't the type of parent who would give my kid anything just to keep her from crying.  It seemed to have worked well with Joey.  She was level-headed and responsible.

We cuddled for a few minutes as Pippa moved throughout the house.  "What's your second-favorite flavor?"

She thought for a moment, twisting her lips to the side.  "Uhhh...strawberries?"

"Yummm," I told her.  "Let's go see if we can find a strawberry Go-Gurt instead.  Just as good!"

That seemed to have thwarted the tantrum.  I stood up with her in my arms and we wandered out to the kitchen.  I set Alex on the counter and then opened the fridge.  I fished around in the Go-Gurt box and found a strawberry.  I showed it to Alex and she smiled as I put it in her lunchbox.

"Alright, kiddo," I said, setting her down on the floor.  "Let's get you to preschool.  Socks before shoes."

Alex ran off and I found Jack to get him settled into the stroller and pack a diaper bag.  Pippa came out a minute later, looking much calmer and put together.  She thanked me for taking Alex to preschool and kissed the kids and me goodbye.

Navigating the subway with a stroller wasn't the most fun, but I managed.  I got Alex to school by 9:30 and then it was just us boys.  I decided to grab a coffee and take the little guy to a toddler playground.  It was pint-sized and made just for tiny kids.  We played for a good 45 minutes before it was time for Clarita to get in.  We'd agreed to meet around 11:00 to talk about a few things to do with Joey.

I'd made reservations at a restaurant, so Jack and I made our way there.  I got our table and set Jack in my lap with a few chew-type toys to gnaw on.  Soon, Clarita walked in, looking amazing as usual.  I managed to stand up and shift Jack to the side so I could give her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.

"This must be Jack!" she beamed at the little boy.  He gurgled in response, taking in this new person.  She reached over the table and he gripped onto her finger.  Clarita wiggled it up and down, giving him a baby handshake.

"How was your flight?" I asked her.  We went through some of the usual small talk.  It was getting close to the end of the school year and Joey was set to spend at least some of the summer with her.  Clarita wanted to talk to me first to get an idea of Joey's mindframe.  Now that she was back in NYC and Clarita wasn't trying to pry her away, she seemed more receptive.

"I don't think she'll want to spend the whole summer there," I told her honestly.  "But maybe three weeks or so?  She's got a volleyball camp she really wants to go to at NYU."

She nodded.  "I want her to be able to do that," Clarita said maturely.  "When would that be?"

I gave her the dates and she opened up her planner, already filled with scribbles and plans for the summer.  "Okay.  I'll actually be in L.A. for part of that week anyway, so that would be fine."

We settled on having Joey go to Chicago at the end of June through late July.  About three weeks.  I was glad that Clarita seemed to have her head back on straight.  Trying to make Joey do anything was just a bad idea.  She had to want to do it.  My stubborn daughter.

With summer plans in place, we shifted the conversation to that evening.  There was always a traditional father/daughter dance, but Clarita had also wanted to have a mother/daughter dance.  I didn't have a problem with it, so Clarita had been scouring the Internet for songs.  She had it narrowed down to a handful.

"Maybe you should ask Joey," I suggested to her.

Clarita didn't always think to ask Joey.  She looked at me, perhaps realizing she should've just asked her in the first place.  Clarita nodded and tucked her phone away in her purse.

"Pippa has a little surprise planned," I went on.  "One of Joey's favorite singers is Selena Gomez, and she managed to rope her into performing."

Clarita gaped and I could tell she was immediately jealous.  Of Pippa, not Joey.

"Wow," she said simply.  "You really have found yourself a keeper."

I let out a breath and let my head hang for a moment.  "Problem?"

She sighed and pushed the ice around in her drink with her straw.  "Oh, nothing.  It just seems Pippa walks on water.  Joey's crazy about her."

"They've kind of clicked recently," I admitted.  "But you're still her mother."

"Am I?" she asked after taking a drink.  "I never see her.  She hates me.  She lives with you and that woman."

"I happen to love that woman," I interjected, not liking the way this was going.

"And I'm happy for you," Clarita quickly added.  "Sorry, that may have sounded immature, but it's how I feel.  I love Joey and no matter what I do, she seems to despise me.  It hurts that Pippa's become more of a mother to her than I am."

I didn't respond to that initially; just took another drink as I bounced Jack.

"She loves you," I said after a minute of silence.  "Just remember that."

Our food came along with some crackers for Jack.  I broke them up a little bit and Jack started fisting them into his little mouth.  He seemed pretty content.

"So," she said as she pushed around her salad.  "Are you and Pippa adopting the kids?"

Pippa and I had thrown the idea around a little bit.  We were their legal guardians, but the legality of two single adults both adopting two kids was a bit of a legal quagmire.  The only way we'd really adopt them is if we ever married.

"Maybe eventually," I said, licking my fingers from the burger I was eating.  "We're not married yet, so it's a bit complicated."

"Yet?" she asked, looking at me knowingly.  I smirked.

"I could see myself marrying her eventually," I admitted.  "I don't know if we're there yet."

"How are you getting along with her son?  Is it Elliott?"

"Mmhmm," I wiped my mouth with a napkin.  "Pretty well.  He's a good kid."

"Will you still like him if he deflowers your daughter?" she asked me.  I chuckled.

"Believe it or not, we've talked about that," I told my ex.  "We're trying to be pretty open with them about it."

"I tried to talk to Joey," she said, staring off.  "She kinda brushed me off."

I didn't mention that she'd talked to Pippa about it, sensing that might hurt.  To me, it didn't seem it should mattered who Joey talked to, as long as she talked to someone.

We had pleasant enough conversation afterwards and I paid the bill.  She would come to our house later to see Joey before the party.  Jack was fading fast, so I set him in the stroller and wheeled our way to the subway.  He was asleep before we even got on the train.

We arrived home and I gently picked up Jack from the stroller and took him to his room.  I set him down in his crib and just watched him for a few minutes.  Completely innocent.  Unaware of the stresses of the world.  Unaware that he'd been orphaned before he even turned one.  I reached down and gently stroked his chubby cheek with the back of my forefinger.

What kind of life would he and his sister have with Pippa and me?  What if Pippa and I decided we couldn't stand each other?  Would they basically live like they had divorced parents?  Would they resent us for being crappy alternatives to their real parents?

On the other hand, what if Pippa and I decided to spend our lives together?  What if we got married and started a little family of our own?  It would be more like a big family, with four kids already.  I allowed myself to picture our lives in five years.  The older kids off at college, successful.  Alex and Jack well-adjusted and happy.  Maybe a kid of our own.

I took one last look at Jack, breathing slowly, and stepped out of the room.  Don't get too far ahead of yourself, Lin.  First, get through tonight.  Your daughter will only turn fifteen once.  You're seeing her blossom into a beautiful young woman in front of your eyes.  For now, that was enough.