A/N: I needed a little fluff in my life... and Brittana babies! How can you not love Brittana babies?
Corby Pierce-Lopez loves the color green. His mom says he gets it from his mami; his mami says it's because green is a kick-A color. (Mom always gives Mami a scary look whenever she continues past the A so he thinks it's good she leaves it at that.)
He loves the color green, and Mami loves the color green, and no one at his table thinks it's weird when he chooses a green piece of construction paper to make his card.
Becca Jacobson scrunches her nose at him as he writes Mami across the front, but she's pretty much always making that face so he doesn't think anything of it. Sometimes the kids at recess say Becca's part rabbit with all the scrunched-up faces she makes.
He draws a lizard on the front; runs a glue stick along the edges and sprinkles some silver glitter over the paper; opens it up and writes inside: I love you more than ducks and chocolate cake.
Mami's going to love his card.
Mami hates his card.
He knows because of the way her teeth press down on her bottom lip; the way she darts her eyes from the card in her hands to Mom. He can tell she's upset because she doesn't say anything – and then when she does, it's quiet like that day some stupid men yelled at her and Mom and she had to explain what the D-word meant.
She almost whispers, but not quite. "Corby baby? Did everyone in your class make a card?"
He nods and suddenly thinks it's the wrong answer because Mami shuts her eyes and Mom squeezes the dishtowel in her hands like it's a sponge and none of the water wants to come out.
"Did your teacher tell you to make one?"
"San… Maybe we should just-"
"No. We have to deal with this now, Britt." Mami slips off her chair and squats in front of him, gently resting her hand on his arm. "Did your teacher say everyone had to make a card, baby?"
"Yes?" He's confused. Isn't she supposed to be happy? Cards make people happy.
"Okay." She gives her head a soft shake and glances down at the card again – like maybe it might've changed since she last flipped it open. "Do you know why you made this card, Corby?" He blinks. "Do you know what holiday it is?"
This is something he can answer; they spent three whole days talking about it in class. "Father's Day. Right?"
"That's right," Mom says from the counter.
She likes to sit up there whenever things aren't going right. The day Mami came home with a bruised cheek, Mom sat up there for three hours and held Mami's face in her hands; wrapped her legs around Mami's waist. Sometimes, when things go quiet, he thinks they might be one person.
"Baby," Mami starts again, voice dripping with something soft and unsure. "Why did you make me a card for Father's Day?"
He swats at the tears that betray him as they spill through his dark eyelashes. "Don't you like it?"
"Oh, no, I love it, Corby. It's beautiful." She pulls him into a hug and presses a kiss to his cheek and even though he's six and a big kid, he's never going to tell her she can't kiss him anymore. "But… You know you have two mommies, right?"
He gives her an incredulous look. "Yeah."
"Father's Day is for dads," Mom explains quietly. The dishtowel rests at her side and she runs her heel against the cupboards – and he loves this about her: that she always has to dance, even when she's sitting still.
"Right. So why did you make me a card for Father's Day?" Mami asks, and he sees something sad pass through her eyes.
He never ever meant to make her sad.
"Because my teacher said dads are there to teach you how to throw a ball and read you bedtime stories and take you to the park to play on the swings. She said it's a day to say thank-you for doing all the nice things like this. I wanted to say thank-you," he says with a sniffle, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
He knows Mami doesn't mean to cry in front of him.
"Corby…"
With a sudden jolt, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a second card – this one's yellow and has a glittery duck on the front.
"You got all serious and made me forget about Mom's card," he says with a pout.
Mom hops off the counter with a funny little smile and takes the card from him. "I love you more than bacon and cookies," she reads.
She and Mami crouch down in front of him, taking each other's hand.
"Samantha says her dad burps all the time and never takes the garbage out," he tells them as he stares at the front of Mom's card. "She says I'm lucky to have two moms because that's two people who will remember to sneak a treat in my lunch when I'm having a bad day. You're even better than a dad," he murmurs, suddenly shy. "Becca didn't like that I got to make two cards when she only made one, but I had to say thank-you to both of you because you're the best moms in the world."
Corby Pierce-Lopez loves hugs. His mami says he gets it from his mom; she says it's because hugs are the best way to say I love you. When his two moms wrap him in the biggest hug ever, he squeezes them back as best he can because he wants them to know how much he loves them.
Later that day when he comes to the kitchen for a snack, he notices both cards are stuck on the freezer door with Mami's Breadstix magnets.
They know how much he loves them.
He knows he's the luckiest kid in the world.