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Donovan closed the door of his car in front of the eerie Addams mansion. He stretched his back until it cracked and let out a loud sigh, his eyes scanning the sharp-edged, dark-painted structure.
He slowly shook his head, then went to the trunk and retrieved a large gift wrapped in blue paper and a small suitcase. As he straightened, the Addams family’s zombie butler was already waiting for him under the main door.
He stifled a startle that would have looked extremely unbecoming for a ex-sheriff.
Lurch growled as Donovan approached, then turned to guide him to the his room reserved for all his visits to the Addams.
God! That thought was so surreal. Even after two years, the idea still made his skin crawl.
Despite his doubts, Wednesday and Tyler had kept a low profile—or rather, they had been forced to maintain one. Little Teddy had turned out to be quite the challenge for his young and troubled parents.
Donovan didn’t want to be the antagonist of the family, but he took a certain pleasure in seeing how Wednesday’s dark circles had become more pronounced. He still hadn’t forgotten the boa constrictor that nested under his bed during his first visit, the bear trap rug in the bathroom, or the poltergeist she summoned for a macabre recreation of “Christmas carol” during their first Christmas together.
Donovan checked every corner of his room and frowned when he found nothing out of the ordinary. Well, if you ignored the way the eyes of the portrait seemed to follow him. But that was normal. He and the count in the painting had reached a truce during his last visit.
Once he finished arranging his belongings in the trunk at the foot of his bed—securing it with a padlock he had brought from the station—the door creaked open. Wednesday’s younger brother appeared in the doorway.
“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Mother says you can wait in the living room.”
Donovan stared wide-eyed, and when the boy turned away, he let out all the air he had been holding.
What was it with the Addams family and dramatic entrances?
He descended the stairs alone, deftly avoiding the pair of scimitars that swung down from the walls every time he stepped on the seventh step and greeting Thing, who was rapidly climbing the banister. He stopped in front of the entrance to the living room, where Gomez and Morticia were lost in each other. He rolled his eyes, and just as he was about to interrupt the romantic couple, Tyler’s voice came from behind him.
He might not say it aloud, but his heart clenched at the sight of his son.
Tyler and Wednesday had stayed out of the country for the past two years, waiting for everyone to forget the face of the Hyde thought to be dead. They had returned for short visits, and it had been four months since their last reunion.
“Dad, I didn’t know you were here.”
Tyler wiped his hands on a towel and stepped out of the kitchen. Teddy was hanging on his back, his little fingers tangled in Tyler’s hair. Seeing Donovan, the toddler squealed, leapt, and yanked Tyler’s hair so hard that his head tilted back.
“Don’t do that, Ted,” Tyler scolded, but the boy ignored him completely.
Donovan offered a compassionate smile as he watched Tyler struggle to disentangle the small hands from his hair.
“Looks like you need help.”
Tyler let out a deep sigh and lowered his hands, apparently deciding the battle over his hair was lost.
“Wednesday is in a meeting with her editor. She’s delayed submitting her draft again.”
Internally, Donovan smiled. Karma was simply magnificent.
“I can watch him for a bit if you want.”
Suddenly, the living room fell silent. Little Teddy looked expectantly at his father, as if he understood everything. Even Gomez and Morticia’s kissing ceased when Tyler’s face lit up with relief.
Good heavens, he couldn’t remember the last time Tyler had looked at him like that.
“Actually, I was going to ask if you could watch him this afternoon. Wednesday and I desperately need a couple of hours of sleep, or I think I might end up slicing people instead of the cake.”
Tyler laughed, though Donovan clearly didn’t find it funny.
“I’m not sure he’ll want to spend that much time with me.”
“You’ll do great,” Tyler promised. Then, lowering his voice as he stepped closer, he added, “The tips you’ve given me has been incredible.”
Donovan felt his chest swell with pride.
Over the past year, he’d received several calls from a desperate Tyler. Barely twenty-one and technically dead, Tyler had no friends to ask for parenting advice, and Wednesday’s methods were more than questionable. The boy often hid in the bathroom while calling his father, asking everything from how to bathe a baby to what to do about colic.
And Donovan, as a technically single father, was more than qualified to handle kids—especially problematic ones like Tyler and Teddy.
“Fine, but I’ll return him if things get out of hand,” he said in an authoritative tone, though he was secretly delighted at the idea.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“It’s not nec—”
“Tyler, my boy!” Gomez interrupted, approaching with a radiant smile. Morticia followed closely, her curious gaze fixed on them. “If you need help with Teddy, you only have to ask. Tish and I would be delighted to assist, wouldn’t we, mi amor?”
“Darling, remember I need to prepare for tonight’s seance. I’m afraid I won’t be able to play with our little demon,” she said airily, resting her hand on Gomez’s shoulder. Her black-painted nails looked like claws caressing him delicately.
Gomez’s smile deflated like a balloon.
“However,” Morticia continued, a glint of humor in her dark eyes, “I’m sure you and Donovan will make an exceptional duo to keep Teddy entertained.”
“That’s not necessary,” Donovan said immediately. “I can handle it alone.”
“I insist. It will be a memorable day. Pugsley, would you like to join us?”
The boy appeared out of nowhere, horror painted on his face.
“No.”
Donovan narrowed his eyes at Tyler.
“Yeah, you’ll owe me for this,” he growled.
Tyler let out a strained laugh that was more a grimace of stress.
“Andiamo!” Gomez shouted, grabbing Donovan by the shoulders.
Park.
Donovan shut the car door and let out a tired sigh. At least they were at the park, he tried to console himself, and not some eerie dungeon.
He looked around, quickly assessing the area for any dangers. The playground equipment was plastic, the swing set height seemed appropriate, the parents were focused on their own children, and there were no obstacles blocking the view of the woods a few meters away.
Good, it seemed safe.
He heard Gomez’s car door close, and moments later, felt the man’s hand on his shoulder.
Of course, the greatest danger was standing right beside him.
"It's time to have some fun," Gomez declared.
"Teddy’s the one who’s going to have fun, not us," Donovan retorted.
"Details, Galpin. Details."
Donovan grabbed the baby’s diaper bag and followed Gomez. Over his shoulder, little Teddy beamed at him, and the former sheriff couldn’t resist returning the smile.
At his young age, Teddy had already proven to be as loving as Wednesday was... not. In fact, he reminded Donovan far too much of Tyler, even in appearance.
He had black, curly, fluffy hair, as if a storm cloud perpetually hovered over his head, and his eyes carried the same chaotic blend as Tyler’s. He laughed at everything, and his curious gaze missed nothing.
Gomez set him in the sandbox next to three other kids, and the two men took seats on the nearby parents' bench.
Gomez let out a deep sigh and placed his hands on his lap.
"He reminds me so much of Wednesday at that age," Gomez said wistfully.
Donovan glanced from Gomez to the child laughing peacefully with the other kids in the sandbox. He was sure “laughing” and “Wednesday” were words that had never belonged in the same sentence.
"Absolutely not. He’s exactly like Tyler. Tyler was friends with every kid on our street."
Gomez furrowed his brow and looked at the former sheriff.
"My little scorpion always invited all her classmates over for her birthday parties."
Donovan chuckled.
"And I’m guessing they left terrified."
"Always," Gomez said proudly. "Our dear Wednesday never let us down."
The park’s tranquility was abruptly shattered by a sharp scream, followed quickly by another, and then another. Each scream morphed into uncontrollable sobbing. Donovan quickly searched for Teddy and felt a brief wave of relief when he saw him laughing hysterically.
Of course, that relief vanished when he realized Teddy was holding another child’s hands, causing small sparks to flicker between them.
"Look, Donovan! He’s just like Fester!" Gomez exclaimed, grinning broadly.
Donovan rushed to separate the children, ignoring the disapproving glares and murmurs from other parents.
Lake.
The second activity was Gomez’s idea, but to Donovan’s surprise, it wasn’t anything macabre or extravagant.
“We’re going fishing,” his father-in-law announced. “That’s always brought Pugsley and me closer.”
Donovan wholeheartedly agreed. He wasn’t much of a fisherman—hunting was more his thing—but he had gone a few times and found it relaxing.
They stopped by the Addams mansion to grab supplies before walking to the nearest lake on—or perhaps within—the family’s property. Donovan preferred not to dwell on the logistics.
They settled on the dock, placing little Teddy between them.
"What bait do you use?" Donovan asked, looking around for fishing rods.
"Only the best."
Gomez grinned, and Donovan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. That grin was never a good sign, a suspicion confirmed when Gomez reached into a bag and pulled out a military grenade.
“What the—?!”
Gomez pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade into the water. Donovan dove to the ground, shielding Teddy with his body.
The grenade exploded, sending water and fish flying in every direction. For a moment, silence reigned. Donovan got to his feet, pale-faced and heart pounding. His initial shock turned into bubbling anger—cut short by the sound of Teddy’s laughter echoing over the lake.
"I knew it," Gomez said. "He’s an Addams!"
"How could you bring that here? It’s illegal!"
Gomez completely ignored him, pulling out another grenade and placing it in Teddy’s tiny hands. Donovan’s jaw dropped, and his chest tightened as though he was on the verge of a heart attack.
Not only was his grandson about to die a horrific death, but Tyler would tear him limb from limb afterward...
Teddy tossed the grenade, and water splashed across Donovan’s face.
"See, Donovan? This is child’s play."
Gomez handed a grenade to Donovan, who hurled it as far as he could.
Fish floated belly-up to the surface in a steady stream.
"What an excellent catch. Morticia will be delighted."
Cementery
Donovan hadn't planned on ending up wandering the old Addams family cemetery, but after they’d been banned from the park and Teddy insisted on a walk while finishing his bottle, there was little choice.
They stopped at each gravestone, where Gomez regaled him with the tragic, horrifying deaths of his ancestors. By the third tomb, Donovan had tuned him out, focusing instead on rocking Teddy in his arms. The baby grasped his finger, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes that made Donovan’s heart clench.
“Isn’t it marvelous?” Gomez’s head suddenly invaded his personal space, cutting the tender moment short. Donovan rolled his eyes and shifted away. “To think such a delicate creature could grow into a massive monster.”
“We don’t even know if he’s a Hyde,” Donovan muttered through gritted teeth.
“One can only hope for the best in their family,” Gomez replied cheerfully.
If Donovan’s hands weren’t full, his fist might have acquainted itself with his dear father-in-law’s face.
He turned on his heel and started toward the mansion. “Teddy needs to sleep,” he declared, the words more of a command than an observation.
The baby’s wide eyes filled with alarm, and he began to wail uncontrollably.
“What did you do?” Gomez asked, scandalized.
“What did I do? I’ve been protecting him from you all day.”
Gomez gasped, genuinely offended. “But we’ve been having so much fun!”
“Fun?” Donovan’s tone dripped with disbelief. “Do you really think it’s fun to hand weapons like this to a baby?” He reached into Gomez’s jacket and pulled out a knife as evidence.
“Of course not. Bladed are only appropriate after they’ve learned to walk, my dear friend.”
Donovan let out a laugh that teetered between hysteria and exasperation, throwing the knife with such force it grazed Gomez’s cheek. Both men froze in stunned silence.
Teddy’s cries dissolved into delighted giggles.
“See? I always knew you had the right spirit,” Gomez declared, his eyes shining. As if summoned by magic, he produced an array of knives.
“What are you doing? No, Gomez! Our grandson!” Donovan shouted as Gomez flung his first knife. Donovan dodged and sprinted toward the mansion, clutching Teddy tightly as the baby squealed with laughter.
Tyler furrowed his brow, watching from the far side of the garden as his father and Gomez hurled objects at each other.
“I think this was a bad idea,” he said, stepping away from the bedroom window. “This is going to end in a funeral.”
“If we’re lucky, it’ll be your father’s,” Wednesday quipped, settling onto the bed.
“This isn’t another one of your plans to get rid of him, is it?” Tyler arched an eyebrow. Wednesday crossed her arms, feigning offense.
“Do you think I’d use Theodore for that purpose?”
“Absolutely.”
Wednesday looked away, and Tyler could have sworn she was suppressing a smile. His eyes narrowed further.
“Wednesday…”
“I hadn’t considered it,” she admitted, her tone nonchalant. “But I trust our son is more than capable of accomplishing what we have not. Now, return to bed, or the funeral we’ll be planning will be yours.”
A smirk tugged at Tyler’s lips as he stalked toward her like a predator closing in on its prey. “Well, when you put it that way, who am I to argue?”
Tyler cupped her face, pulling her into a searing kiss, one so intense it seemed to defy the world outside. And, in a way, it did—a sudden explosion shook the mansion’s foundation. They broke apart briefly, their gazes locking as a silent agreement passed between them: not our problem.
With calculated ease, Wednesday tangled her fingers in Tyler’s hair and flipped him onto his back, straddling him in one swift motion.
“Ready for the next round?” she asked, a sly smile curling her lips as she untied the black ribbon of her robe.
Tyler’s gaze darkened, trailing over her with a hunger that promised to consume her. Slowly, he licked his lips.
“More than ready.”
In the distance, another crash reverberated through the mansion, accompanied by a cacophony of familiar screams—sounds neither Tyler nor Wednesday bothered to acknowledge.