Page 150 of Anything But Lonely

She told me to stand up.

No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just Emerson, staring at me like I’d completely lost my mind for thinking maybe she’d want to make things official. I never thought I’d remarry, but I knew I’d do it in a heartbeat if it’s what Emerson wanted.

Safe to say, a piece of paper didn’t mean shit to her.

It took me a whole month to convince her to wear the ring I bought her and another two months before she let me call her my wife without immediately rolling her eyes or telling me I was being dramatic.

Of course, she only agreed to wear the ring after I pointed out that she never took the bracelet Crew gave her off—the one he picked out for her on her first Mother’s Day.

She'd worn that thing everywhere. To work, to bed, on vacation, even when the clasp started looking like it might give out at any moment. She never wanted to take it off.

And maybe that was when I really understood just how much our lives had changed.

Emerson never wanted to be a mom in the traditional sense. She never dreamed about pregnancy or planned out names or pictured herself raising a child. But somehow, she stepped into her role as Crew’s stepmom so seamlessly, it’s like she was meant for it. But not for anyone else. Just for Crew.

And sometimes, when I look at the two of them, I can barely remember what our lives looked like before she came into them.

“Hey, rockstar,” Emerson says as I step onto the sidewalk.

“Hi, baby.” I grab her hand, interlocking my fingers with hers. The two of us trail behind the kids and adults as we all make our way to the next house on the block.

“Can you believe this is our fifth Halloween?” Emerson asks on a sigh, shaking her head. Her bangs are long enough to tuck behind her ears, her voice low, just loud enough for me to hear.

Around us, there’s chaos, Crew and Evee arguing over whether or not the real Peach could beat the real Spider-Man; Benny asking Jack to put her on his shoulders; Eliana and James taking turns telling Anderson to hold their candy bags to see whose is heavier; Rumi and Ava walking arm-in-arm, laughing at the scene in front of them as they keep calling for Emerson.

“Can you believe Ava and Anderson added another kid to the bunch?” I whisper in Emerson’s ear, and her giggle warms me up from the inside out. “I told the four of them the year James and Benny were born, no more kids. We’d be outnumbered.” I shake my head, my eyes going to those four people who have become not only my greatest friends but aunts and uncles to Crew. “And what do Ava and Anderson do? They go and have Levi.”

Emerson’s barks out a laugh, causing Rumi and Ava to turn around.

“Are you guys planning on making a run for it?” Rumi asks.

“Again,” Ava adds, and I roll my lips together to hide my smile, reminded of last year’s Halloween when Emerson and I snuck off mid-trick-or-treating to make out like two teenagers behind one of my neighbor’s sheds.

“Is that why you’re ignoring us?” Rumi turns over her shoulder, raising a brow.

“No running off this year,” Anderson yells loud enough for us to hear over the kids giggling as they all head up the next driveway.

“No running,” Emerson laughs. “Pinky promise.” We watch all of the kids hold out their bags to the older couple sitting on their porch with a bowl of candy. Emerson leans in closer to me as we all follow them up to the doorstep. “Yet,” she adds, giving me a wink, and I swat her on the ass.

“Keep it PG, Lane,” Ava scolds over her shoulder as we stop just a few feet from the porch, but I can’t help but sneak a kiss to Emerson’s lips anyway, pulling away before I have no other choice but to throw her over my shoulder and run back to our house—fuck the pinky promise.

“Well, what a fine bunch we have here,” the older woman says, standing from her rocking chair and bringing me back to the moment. We all watch as she smiles down at each of the kids, dropping a handful of candy into their bags. She compliments all of their costumes, and they each beam at the praise. When she gets to Benny, she says, “Well, aren’t you the cutest Spider-Girl I’ve ever seen?”

“I’m Spider-Gwen,” Benny announces proudly before pointing at Crew. “I’m Spider-Man’s girlfriend.”

Crew tips his head back, lifting his mask again. “Benny,” he groans, “I am not your boyfriend.”

Emerson grabs Crew by the shoulder, pulling him into her chest, as we all laugh. Crew is shaking his head, but his lips curl as Benny tries to show the older couple how to “shoot webs”.

Our group makes our way back to the sidewalk, the moms each taking their “mom tax” before we head toward the last house on the block. From there, it’s back home, where we’ll watch from the kitchen as the kids dump out their candy, sort it into piles, and divide it up so everyone gets a little bit of everything—the way we’ve come to call “Auntie Ava’s way.”

I glance at Emerson beside me, her hand still tucked in mine.

“Five Halloweens,” she says quietly, watching the kids run toward the next house, Jack, Rumi, Ava, and Anderson just a few feet ahead of us.

“Yeah,” I murmur.

Five Halloweens ago, I never could have imagined this.