Phoenix found his father wrapped up around the housekeeper, in the middle of the living room couch, early the next morning. Fortunately, this time, they had on most of their clothes. But his father's hands were under Glenna's sweater. They hadn't even changed out of their jeans. He stood in the door frame, just watching them for a moment.
They looked like they belonged together right there.
He turned, back to the kitchen, as the kids started trickling down the stairs. Parker was lecturing Glenna's oldest daughter about something.
"Nikki needed the Tylers. To rescue her," Parker said. Apparently, the kids had been discussing the night before. Phoenix winced, imagining what kind of drama Parker had invented to fill in the details.
His youngest brother was far more imaginative than any of the rest.
“I don’t need no boy to come and rescue me," the oldest girl said hotly. Stubbornly. She looked like her mother in miniature. But she had a temper and an attitude at times. “Ever. I rescue myself.”
“You are living in my house now, Evangeline. That means I’m like your big brother, and you are like a Tyler. Just like when we got Ivy. Being a brother means responsibility. Obligations.” Well, Parker was right about that part. Phoenix couldn’t argue that. “Tylers take care of Tylers. All the way from Uncle Bill down to me. It’s just the way it is. That means that if you, Emmy, or Elly ever need rescued, me and Pat and Pete are supposed to do it. Phoenix, too, when he's here. Just like Ben and Gil and Fletcher went with Dad to rescue Nikki. Tylers take care of Tylers.”
"We're not Tylers," the girl had to point out, again, as Patton and Pete came down behind her and Parker. Pete carried the youngest girl on his hip, and Patton kept the middle girl from running down the stairs and crashing like they all had so many times before. Phoenix still had a scar under his chin where he’d bounced off the bottom step years ago.
Then five kids and one almost man were staring at Phoenix. He waited for them to demand to know why he was there. Like he had no business being there.
"We can't find Dad or Glenna," Patton said, worry in his tone. “Did something else happen? Is that why you’re here, instead?”
Hell, he was the one in charge for the moment, wasn’t he? Well, being a brother had obligations, responsibilities. It was time he started living up to those.
"They are sleeping in the living room. They stayed up late talking after Dad got back." Phoenix gave them all his best in-charge stare, feeling like a total phony. "No one is to wake them up. She feeling better?" he asked of Pete as he settled the baby in the booster seat at the table. "She was really fussy last night."
"Elly’s feeling a little warm again. Glenna might want to call Nate or Rhea. I think her ear infection is back." Pete fastened the kid in. Glenna's girls were daredevils. Phoenix had seen that one almost turn the chair over before. "So...I take it you and I are in charge of breakfast?"
That was it. Tylers doing what Tylers had to do. Getting things done. Taking care of each other.
Just like Phoenix had never left.
Phoenix laughed quietly as that gave him a sort of peace he never would have expected. "Yeah, I think we can manage it. Eggs and toast?"
"Sounds like a plan."
The older girl looked at Phoenix, a challenge on her face. "We're not Tylers, you know."
"Not yet," Phoenix told her. Evangeline—Evey. This one was Evey. The littlest one Pete had called Elly. That left…Emmy as the middle girl. He knew their names now. He wouldn’t forget. "But you might be someday. Would that be so bad?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not. I haven’t decided yet."
There was a wariness in her eyes. A fear. Of change? Of the future? Maybe. That was something he could relate to. Their world had changed, too. Phoenix looked at the rest of the kids as they settled down at the table, waiting for breakfast. For the day to begin for all of them.
Looking as if they all belonged together.
Maybe they did. Maybe they had been put together because they were meant to be together.
After Phoebe arrived, ready to start the day, and Pete had woken their father and Glenna and sent those two upstairs to get ready for the day—before Pete and Patton had left to split their dad's chores up between them—Phoenix stepped back upstairs.
The door to his old room was still open. He slipped inside.
His eyes landed on those Power Rangers stickers. Before he even realized what he was doing, he was slipping the drawers free, and laying Elly’s clothes neatly on her bed.
He carried the dresser and drawers downstairs and out to his dad's workshop. It could be heated by kerosene heaters, and he could open the doors for ventilation.
He was going to remove those stickers. Breathe new life into that old dresser.
It had a new purpose. Phoenix didn’t need it now, but little Elly did.
After lighting the heaters, he went back inside and upstairs. Phoenix slipped into the room that had once been the twins.
Yes. There were two old dressers in there, too, just like he’d suspected. They had Pip and Perci stenciled in purple-and-pink letters that had faded with time. They had been stored in the basement for years, he thought. His dad had fished them out for these two.
They looked old and battered and faded.
It took him five minutes to empty both dressers.
They were small. Easy to carry. He was wrestling both down the stairs when his father found him.
"Care to explain what you are doing?" his dad asked quietly.
"Making a few changes around here." Phoenix kept going. He had his damned coat on, and it was hot in the kitchen. His dad grabbed his own coat and boots and slipped them on. Followed. "I'll need to find stencils somewhere. Of their names. But I think these will work better with some changes. Just because they are older than they look doesn't mean there isn't life left in them."
His dad snorted at that. They weren’t talking about the dressers, and both men knew that. "No kidding."
Phoenix had the dressers in place. It would take some sanding to smooth them out, and he'd have to go to town to the hardware store, grab some paint. White for one, pink for another, and maybe that girlish light purple for the third. And letter stencils in contrasting colors. Just like Pip, Perci, Pan, and Phoebe once had. Little girls liked that kind of stuff.
"I see. Might check the school supplies for stencils. Phoebe is a bit of a hoarder for that stuff. Thought I saw some the other day."
"Do you think the littlest one will like white or pink best?" Something about that kid had stuck with him. Maybe because of all the kids, she was the only one young enough to be Phoenix's own.
Holding her had made him realize a few things last night.
He didn’t need his father as much as that kid did right now. And those kids had found their way to his father for a reason. For all of them.
Instead of answering, his dad just pulled him close and hugged him again. "You are a good man, Phoenix Tyler. And I am proud to call you my son. Let me help you with this today, ok? There's something I need to talk to you about, anyway."
Phoenix shot his father a look, and he knew. Knew exactly what his father had on his mind. Just what he and Glenna had been talking about last night that ended up with his dad’s hands copping a feel. "As long as I don't have to be the maid of honor, I'm good with it, Dad. Just...make sure you are happy, ok?"
That was exactly what he wanted, he realized. For them all to be happy again. To find peace. As he and his dad worked together, sanding down the dressers for three little girls, that was what he actually found. Peace.
It might only last for a little while. But he would find it again. And again.
Because that was exactly how life worked.
When they quit around lunch—and he texted Rowland back to tell him he was busy with his family and taking the day off—and they headed back inside, and he saw the look Glenna had in her eyes, that was when he understood.
He surprised both of them and himself by scooping her close for a hug. Wow. She felt smaller, more vulnerable than he would have thought. Not like the enemy at all. "Take care of him. Take care of them all."
"You'd better believe I'm going to do my best to do just that."
And she hugged him back. This woman who wasn't his mother but that his father loved.
Her girls would be Tylers. They would all be family, be taken care of. Be happy.
Because Tylers took care of Tylers, after all.
That was the way it was supposed to be. No matter who ended up being a Tyler. Or how they’d gotten there.
Tylers took care of Tylers. He wouldn’t have it any other way.