I lied.

We're not in the calm; we're in the storm.

A storm that looks like it ripped through a department store and unburdened itself of its clothed debris all over my hallway and boys’ room. 

I had to weave around different articles of clothing in the hallway, only to stand in Knox and Kohl's bedroom watching a pair of pants spin around on a blade of the ceiling fan. A shirt hangs off the corner of a bedframe, and a shoe is on a dresser, balancing dangerously on the edge.

For days Knox and Kohl's have been fine claiming multiple times that they aren't nervous for this dinner.

Their disaster of a room was like a bright beacon of light, showcasing the nervousness they tried so hard to hide. A twin bumps into me as they dart by a pile of clothes clutched tightly in their arms; another passes by, tossing his pile on a bed.

A sigh escapes me, exasperated; one hand raises to my mouth to whistle sharply.

Both boys' freeze, attention flickering to me.

“What is going on here? We're supposed to be leaving in ten minutes!” I drop my hand; it smacks against my thigh.

“We...uh...don't know what to wear.” Knox sheepishly scratches at his head, eyes darting to the side.

I feel like there's an added pressure to this meeting tonight because Cage is like Knox’s and Kohl's idol; they would go on and on about some baseball player.

I just never knew it was Cage; I tended to block out anything sports-related, but I did manage to fake enthusiasm for the boys’ so they wouldn't think I was completely spacing out.

Truthfully, I avoided all things Cage Trevor.

Besides the few college games I watched while pregnant, I had fallen asleep, only to be awoken by the twins' endless kicking when his team scored. I was afraid to look him up, to find out what he's up to through the media that surely followed him from his high school baseball career into his college one. The girls that would hang off him and his every word.

It was easier to avoid any mentions of him.

I only heard through the town gossip that he was playing professionally.

While I could tell from a young age that Knox and Kohl were going to live and breathe for the sport, I was never going to be able to sit down and have discussions about the game with them. 

I tried to learn about it for them, so I could at least understand what was happening during their games. But other than the basics of a bat hitting the ball, you run around the bases; I will never fully grasp the concept.

Lucky for me, their Pappy is more than happy to listen to all things baseball, even sitting around and watching a game on TV every week with them. I know for a fact my dad was more of a football fan but switched to baseball after channel surfing one day while watching the twins. They were both bawling their eyes out with football playing, I guess? He said they stopped instantly at the first crack of the ball meeting a bat.

I know out of all the teams my dad could have chosen from, he intentionally picked Cage’s. I'm grateful he did.

I'm glad they had Cage Trevor, a professional baseball player, to grow up watching. I know it would have been better for them to have Cage Trevor, Father, instead, but they'll still have some memories of him in their childhood at least.

I walk over to a bed, digging through a pile of clothing, pulling out a dark green plaid shirt and some tan khaki pants. Then I rummage through another pile looking for the dark blue plaid shirt I know the boys' have. Once I find it, I hand all the articles of clothing off to the twins, green for Knox and blue for Kohl.

“Wear these…. Oh! And put these white T-shirts underneath."

They both quickly get dressed while I pick clothes up off the floor, partially to clean it up a bit and to look for shoes they can wear. I found one pair of the brown old west boots I bought for the boys' earlier this fall, and it didn't take me long to find the other pair kicked under Kohl's bed. 

That's usually where everything that's missing in this house ends up.

Missing a shoe? Under Kohl's bed.

Missing a hat? Under Kohl's bed.

Missing a toy? Under Kohl's bed.

Missing car keys? Under Kohl's bed.

Okay, fine, that last one has never happened, but my point is that underneath his bed is up to par with that gap in between the seat belt buckles. Things are never the same once recovered from those two spaces.

“Thank you, Mom!” Two grateful voices shout on their way to the front door.

One last glance at the disaster left in the boys' wake, and with an exasperated shake of my head, I follow.

Unlike Knox and Kohl, I have been dressed and ready to go for the past half hour now. I'm wearing a white, slim-fitting, cable-knit sweater with a v-neck and blue distressed skinny jeans, with white leggings layered underneath for warmth. Finishing the outfit off with a gold heart locket Quinn got me for Mother's Day, hair in a high ponytail with a white bow and two pieces framing my face, and cognac lace-up combat boots.

We all pile into the car, hand resting on the key in the ignition, ready to turn the car on. “You ready?” My gaze flickers to the rearview mirror, catching on both of theirs.

“We're ready,” Knox gives me a reassuring smile.

One that Kohl mimics.

Five minutes later, we arrived at the diner. We all hop out of the car and go inside. Spotting Cage in a corner booth, we head over to him. 

Once he sees us, he quickly gets out of the booth.

"Hey, Rory."

Before I can even return the greeting, Cage's arms are wrapping around my waist, pulling me in close for a startling hug. Nonetheless, my arms wrap around his shoulders on instinct, returning the warm embrace.

"Cage," I say when he releases me.

Turning to face Knox and Kohl, I beckon them closer with a wave of my fingers. They quickly move to stand on either side of me, eyes full of curiosity and masked excitement as they take in all six-two of their father.

“This is Knox,” I gesture to my right,” and Kohl.”I gesture to my left. “Boys, this is Cage Trevor, your father.”

Cage crouches down to their height and holds his hand out for both of them to shake. “It’s really nice to meet you both. I don't know about y'all, but I could devour a cheeseburger right now. Are you boys' hungry? Your mom was talking about how this place has the best milkshakes around these parts. What about you, Knox and Kohl? Do you agree with your mom's testament?”

Two younger versions of Cage's grin, dimples and all, appear on Knox and Kohl's faces.

Cage blinks, momentarily shocked by the two miniature replicas standing before him, his gaze flickering up to me, silently asking if I'm seeing this too.

I smother a laugh with my hand as Cage stands up, disguising it into a cough when our sons look up at me.

“I would bet money on them being the best milkshakes in the state.” Kohl brags proudly on behalf of The Maple Tree.

“Really? Are they Just Tacos good?”

“Just Tacos? What's that?” Knox asks.

At that, Cage’s eyes go wide with shock for a completely different reason.

“You never took them to Just Tacos? We'll have to rectify that sometime. They're only the best tacos in the entire state, straight from a food truck too, so it adds to the experience.” Cage motions for us to sit, and I slide to one side of the bench, the boys take the one across from me, and Cage sits next to me. “For now we'll just have to settle for cheeseburgers, fries, and the best milkshakes in the state. Hopefully y'all are wrong about that.”

Beth, one of the waitresses here, walks over flipping her pen and smacking away on her Hubba Bubba gum to take our orders. 

She's been chewing the corner store out of the stuff for the past year and a half since she quit smoking; she says it might not be much healthier than a pack of smokes, but at least it's cheaper.

“If it isn't my two favorite gentlemen here to grace my day with their presence this fine evenin. You gonna spice it up today? Maybe get a little crazy and order some blue cheese on your burger?”

Knox and Kohl laugh out a No.

“No? Alright, your usual then? Pickles, Matos, lettuce, and none of them onions raw, fried, or caramelized. Now what am I forgettin?” Beth taps her chin with her pen.

“Milkshakes!” They remind her.

Beth lightly smacks her forehead. “How silly of me, how could I forget the most important thing! Two chocolate shakes, chocolate drizzle, and extra whip.”

The Maple Tree is quickly becoming a staple here in Rushmore, and Beth and her sister, right along with it. They moved here from Canada, laughing off our cliché questions about Canadians and weaving their way into all of our hearts. They ironically named this place The Maple Tree because neither of them likes maple syrup.

I know how sacrilegious of them.

I take boys' here once a month for a family outing, or something exciting happens for either of us.

So Beth has become well acquainted with Knox, Kohl, and me, enough to know our orders by heart.

Knox and Kohl give her a wide smile, happy she got their order exactly how they wanted it.

“Same as usual, Mama Bear? And what do you want, new guy?”

Beth is subtly glaring at Cage, and I get it's because she doesn't know the full story, but it is glaringly obvious that he's the twins' father.

I nod my head to her question, shooting her a smile that says everything is fine and there are no problems here. Her glare lessens, getting the message I was trying to send after she glances at Knox and Kohl, eyes softening like always, seeing that they're fine as well.

“What would you recommend to a newcomer?” Cage asks, lifting his head from the menu he's been studying.

“Well, I don't eat meat, but Rory orders the maple bacon burger every time she comes in here; she says it's good. So how about one of those? Extra bacon?”

Blue meets Gray, and a small smile is shared between us.

“Sounds good, and extra pickles with a side of fries, please.” Cage sets the menu down, directing his attention to the twins. “What kind of milkshake should I get?”

“The Maple Specialty,” they answer simultaneously without a second of hesitation.

Beth hides a laugh much like I did earlier.

“Comin right up.”

When Beth disappears to the kitchen to place our order, Cage turns to me, eyes soft and lips twitching with a smile.

"Come here often, I take it?"

"Mhmm. Told you it was their favorite place; we come here once a month and for special occasions.” I fiddle with the salt shaker, watching the twins whisper among themselves in front of us.

"Should I be worried about what they ordered for me?" Cage questions me.

"Oh no, you have nothing to be worried about," I reassure him before mumbling under my breath, "Except for diabetes."

Cage barks out a laugh, momentarily catching the attention of a few customers before they turn back to pretending their food is the most interesting thing they've seen.

"I heard that," he murmurs to me.

"Mom, you didn't tell him what we ordered for him, did you?" Kohl pouts, with his signature sad puppy eyes tacked too.

"No, of course not, honey."

His eyes brighten with his pleased grin, happy that I'm not spoiling their sugar coma-inducing fun.

I swear he is going to be a handful when he reaches his teens, having the girls eating out of the palm of his hand just like his father. I pity the poor girls whose hearts my son is going to break, intentionally or not.

I'll have to make sure to teach them more manners before they reach that age, to treat girls with respect, and to be nothing but perfect gentlemen.

Knox is about to say something when Beth backs out of the kitchen, arms laden down with our food and milkshakes. She sets everything down, holding up a finger for the universal sign for just a second, walking back into the kitchen, reappearing a few seconds later with Cage's milkshake.

And it is huge. 

The glass, more like a bucket, is the biggest one they have here. The rim is dipped in chocolate syrup and covered with smashed chocolate chip cookie crumbs. It's a vanilla and chocolate layered milkshake with cookie chunks scattered throughout, topped with a mountain of whipped cream, more chocolate syrup, and two whole cookies.

I've denied letting the twins get one time after another.

For one, it's way too much sugar for them, and two? There's no way they could finish it even if I helped them, and if I happened to say so? They would eat the whole damn thing just to prove they could, with claims of it being so worth it as they puke it all back up in the diner bathrooms.

Because that is a daily occurrence in my life as a mom of two boys.

I can eat more mac and cheese than you.

Oh yeah? I bet I can climb that tree higher than you.

I'm faster than you.

Well, I'm older than you.

"Oh sh... oof, I mean crap. That thing is huge." I smacked Cage in the chest when I realized he was about to cuss in front of Kohl and Knox.

"Enjoy! I can have your food boxed up if you want." Beth laughs and walks off to another table.

"Remind me not to let you boys pick out my milkshake...or any kind of dessert again." Cage says, chuckling and slowly spinning his milkshake around to view the entire thing.

"Mom never allowed us to get one, but she never said anything about ordering one for someone else.”

"Yeah, Mom, you never said we couldn't get someone else one," Kohl says.

"Yes, you're right. I never said you couldn't order one for someone else. However, it's your father's milkshake since you ordered it for him. Which means you won't be getting any of it unless he decides to share."

The boys share a few looks, seeming to be speaking with each other without words. 

"Will you share it with us, Cage?" Knox and Kohl both clasp their hands together like they're praying, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Maybe it's because Cage is sitting right next to me, or my brain simply thinks it's okay to randomly show me past memories of us today. Instantly I think back to the one and only time Cage used those same pleading puppy eyes on me.

“Come on, Rory, it will be fun.” Cage stands on the edge of the fountain, foot grazing across the top to flick water at me.

“I am not jumping into a fountain with you, Cage! We could be arrested.” I whisper-yell, eyes darting around wildly, terrified that my worst nightmare will come true and a cop is about to come marching over to haul us both off in cuffs.

I know my mom is being pretty laid back because she trusts me, and tonight is the first time I ever asked to go to a party. I just don't think when she told me as I was running out the door to have fun that getting arrested for vandalism or whatever fountain jumping would be considered is what she had in mind.

“Just your toes then.” Cage pleads, the puppy dog eyes I've seen countless times over the years just never directed at me, on full display.

I hesitate for a second, two, three…a sigh escapes me.

“Fine.” 

I walk over, reaching my hand out to him, and he helps me onto the fountain's edge.

“For the record? This is a terrible idea.” I mumble, and then I jump.

"Well, there is no way I'm going to be able to finish this myself. I'll share it with you both." The twins are about to say something when he continues talking. "Only if it's okay with your mom."

The memory fades to the back of my mind, the remnants of it remaining in the small smile that twists my lips.

Three sets of eyes land on me, two still pleading ones and one knowing, almost like he knows exactly where my mind just went.

"Fine, but only this once." I sigh and flick back the hair that was getting in my face.

"Yes!" they exclaimed and high-fived each other, pulling Cage's milkshake closer to them and starting to dig in.

Cage nudges me with his shoulder carefully, then leans down to whisper to me.

“For the record? This might be a terrible idea, all that sugar.”

I laugh, and Cage joins me.

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