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Operation: ,,It‘s Daddy‘s birthday“ commenced at exactly 5:42 AM and it starts with a whisper.
“…Ed.” “No.” “Ed.” “I’m sleeping. Go away!” Jonah sighs dramatically from the hallway. “Come on, man! We have exactly one hour before Dad wakes up.” From inside the twins’ room comes Jasmine’s sleepy voice. “…Tell him to stop talking.” “I am trying, Mine.” Saphira throws a pillow that somehow lands perfectly in the hallway. “Everybody shut up.”
Silence last‘s approxamitly six seconds until Ed suddenly bolts upright “I HAVE AN IDEA.” Jonah immediately shushes him. “First: No. Second: Do you want to scream any louder? I‘m sure Dad hasn‘t heard you!“ “You don’t even know what my idea is!“ Ed smiles mischievous. Jonah takes a step back, “If you’re smiling like that, it’s dangerous.” Ed grins wider. “…We should make breakfast.”
Silence.
Then Jasmine quietly says, “…Didn’t we almost burn the house down on Papi’s birthday?” “That was different.” “It was also breakfast.” Now Saphira chimed in: ,,And the toaster exploded, mind you.” “It did not explode.” “It caught FIRE, Edward.” “It was a tiny fire.”
Jonah rubs both hands over his face. “I can’t believe I’m the responsible one.”
—
Downstairs, Dustin is already awake. Coffee in hand while watching his four children creep down the stairs like the world’s least competent burglars. He raises one eyebrow. “…Why do you all look guilty?”
Four immediate answers. “We’re not.” “No.” “What?” “I didn’t do anything.”
Dustin smiles. “Uh-huh.”
Ed runs over first, “Papi!”
“Morning, baby.” Dustin scoops up Ed, placing him on his hip. “We’re making Daddy breakfast.” Dustin blinks. “…Am I allowed to say no?” “No.” “…Fair.”
The kitchen becomes organized chaos.
Jonah is reading the pancake recipe. Twice.
Saphira insists she can crack eggs one-handed because she saw someone do it on television.
Jasmine is measuring everything with frightening precision.
And Ed… Ed is “decorating.” Which apparently means pouring an entire container of sprinkles into pancake batter.
Jonah looks over. “…buddy.” “What?” “…Why.” “They’re birthday pancakes.” “That doesn’t answer the question.” “They’re festive.” And while they are arguing, Dustin quietly removes half the sprinkles while Ed isn’t looking.
Some battles aren’t worth fighting.
Meanwhile Steve wakes up. Alone. Which immediately feels suspicious.
“…Dust?” Nothing. Usually Dustin is still in bed or at least reading beside him. Steve stretches slowly. “…Hello?” Silence is the only thing greeting him back
…followed by crash downstairs and:
“ED!” “I SAID I WAS SORRY!” “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH THE BLENDER!”
Steve sits straight up.
“…Oh God.”
—
Back downstairs, the blender did not survive. They held a silent minute in it‘s honor.
Nobody is entirely sure what Ed was trying to make. Sadly including Ed. “I wanted whipped cream.” he said with a slight pout. Jonah pinches the bridge of his nose. “…With frozen strawberries?” “…Maybe.” Saphira snorts, “I respect the confidence.” Jasmine quietly continues arranging fruit because somebody has to remain functional. Dustin walks in carrying replacement whipped cream from the fridge.
“I leave for thirty seconds…” Ed smiles sheepishly. “It got creative.”
Somehow by seven-thirty breakfast somewhat exists: Eggs, Fruit, Bacon, Coffee, Orange juice and one very questionable stack of pancakes that definitely contains far too many sprinkles.
Ed proudly points at it. “That’s Daddy’s.”
Jonah immediately says, “No. That’s diabetes.”
—
Steve finally comes downstairs.
The entire family immediately screams—
“SURPRISE!”
Steve jumps hard enough to nearly miss the last step. “Oh my God!”
Then he sees them. Jonah carrying the coffee, the twins proudly holding the breakfast tray together and Ed wearing a paper birthday hat that says: BEST DAD EVER written in backwards letters.
His gaze falls on his husband and mate standing in the middle, smiling that soft smile Steve still falls in love with after all these years. Steve’s face melts immediately. “…What is all this?”
Ed gasps dramatically, “It’s your birthday! Did you forget?” “No, I know it’s my birthday, buddy.” “But, behold! Now it’s breakfast birthday.” Steve laughs. “…Breakfast birthday? I see.”
Jonah steps forward first, “We made breakfast.”
Steve looks at Dustin with a weary smile. “…How much of the kitchen is still standing?” Dustin considers his answer for a moment, “…Most of it.” “Define most.” “The blender died with honor.” Steve starts laughing before he can stop himself. “Oh no.”
“It was Ed.” “I heard that.” “It was absolutely you.”
They eat together in the living room because birthday rules apparently mean blankets on the floor. Ed spends most of breakfast leaning against Steve’s side. Saphira steals bacon off Steve’s plate. Jasmine quietly keeps refilling his coffee before he notices it’s empty. Jonah keeps everyone laughing with dramatic retellings of the blender incident.
And Steve watches them. Really watches them. His family. His whole world. Dustin catches him smiling.
“What?” Steve shakes his head. “…Nothing.” “You are a terrible liar.” Steve reaches over and takes Dustin’s hand beneath the blanket. “I was just thinking… We did good.”
Dustin follows Steve’s gaze. Toward Jonah helping Ed cut pancakes because they’re “too slippery.” Saphira pretending not to laugh while Jasmine fixes her crooked birthday hat. Four children completely comfortable and completely loved. Dustin squeezes Steve’s hand. “Yeah, we really did.”
—
After breakfast comes presents.
Ed goes first. He shoves a lumpy package into Steve’s lap. “I made it.”
Steve opens it carefully and inside is a picture frame made entirely out of popsicle sticks. Crooked. Covered in glitter. The picture inside is their family. Stick figures. Steve’s hair is bright yellow. “…Buddy.” Ed beams. “You’re smiling.” “I am smiling.” “Because you’re happy.” Steve’s eyes are already suspiciously wet, “I am.” He stands and pulls Ed into a hug, “This is perfect. Thank you, buddy.” Ed hugs him back fiercely. “I know.” Everyone laughs.
Jasmine’s gift is a scrapbook. Every birthday Steve has celebrated since becoming a father. Tiny handwritten notes beside every photograph.
“Daddy teaching me to ride my bike.” “Daddy crying at Finding Nemo.” “Daddy pretending he doesn’t like cuddles.” Steve laughs through tears. “I do not pretend. Thank you, honey” “You absolutely do,” Saphira says.
Saphira’s gift is a soccer jersey.
Framed. On the back:
HARRINGTON
#1 DAD
Steve actually chokes up. “I retired this.” “I know. So now you can’t lose it.” Steve walks over and kisses the top of her head. “You think of everything. Thank you, sweetheart. I love it.” She shrugs, suddenly embarrassed “…You keep every one of my trophies.” “Of course I do.”
Jonah goes last. His present is small, just an envelope.
Inside s handwritten letter.
Steve begins reading but halfway through he stops because his vision blurs.
“Dad,
Everybody always talks about heroes. The truth is… Mine made pancakes on Saturdays. Mine sat through nightmares. Mine cried at my graduations before they happened. Mine taught me that kindness isn’t weakness. If I become half the father you are one day I’ll consider my life successful.”
Steve lowers the letter, unable to speak.Jonah suddenly looks nervous. “…Too much?”
Steve stands, crosses the room and hugs his oldest son with everything he has.
“No.” His voice breaks. “Not enough.”
Jonah hugs him back just as tightly.
“I love you, Dad.” “I love you too.”
Finally Dustin hands Steve one last gift.
Tiny. Wrapped in plain brown paper. Steve opens it slowly. Inside is a keychain. Nothing expensive just silver engraved with one sentence.
Home is wherever you are.
Steve stares at it for a very long time, then quietly asks, “…When did you have this made?” Dustin smiles. “A while ago.” Steve looks around the room: At the children currently arguing over who gets the last pancake, at the mess, the laughter, the noise, the love lastly back at Dustin.
“You know, I used to think birthdays were about getting older.” Dustin smiles softly. “And now?” Steve slips the keychain into his pocket. “Now they’re just reminders of how lucky I am.” Dustin leans over and kisses him gently. “Happy birthday, Stevie.” Steve smiles into the kiss. “It already is.”