It was a dreary, drizzly, cloudy Sunday; the kind of day that is perfect for staying inside relaxing with the family. Four and a half year old Leona Nicole was lying on the floor propped up against her Daddy's side. She was watching "Wonderama" while he was stretched out on his stomach reading the Sunday New York Times. The paper was so thick, he thought it easier to sprawl on the floor with it. Her Papa was sitting in the recliner with his feet up rereading David Copperfield. The entire family was happy, full and quietly enjoying each other's company.

A commercial came on that caught Leona's attention. "Mother's Day is next Sunday!" the announcer practically shouted, "Get her some flowers, get her some chocolates, but make sure you take her to Constantinople's Steak House or you'll never hear the end of it!" The commercial ended, but it caused Leona to think about her family.

She sat up and reached around to rub her Daddy's back. "Daddy?"

Napoleon turned his head to look at his little girl. "Yes, Leona?"

"Is Papa my Mommy?"

Napoleon would have burst out laughing if not for the confused look on his daughter's face. "No, Papa is Papa. He is not Mommy." He glanced up at the Russian and allowed himself a quick grin at the look on Illya's face. "Why do you ask?"

"Terry, Bernice, Michelle and me…" she began.

"And I," both parents corrected automatically.

"Terry, Bernice, Michelle and I were talking at snack time on Friday and Terry said that his Daddy told him about birds and bees and he said that all kids have a Mommy and a Daddy. Is that true?"

Napoleon shifted around so that he was sitting Indian – style in front of Leona. "Yes," he answered as he reached out to stroke her hair, "that's true."

"You're my Daddy. If Papa isn't Mommy, where's my Mommy? Mother's Day is next Sunday. Don't I have to get her a card?"

"Oh, Honey," Napoleon cooed as he looked at her and then Illya. The expression on his face clearly telling the Russian, I'm not sure what to do here.

Illya put his book on the side table and lowered his legs to the floor. "Come here, Leona." She stood and went to sit on his lap. After he got her settled he said, "We had hoped you would be older when we told you this, but since you have asked, we will answer you. Your Mommy…died. When we found you, no one was taking care of you."*

"Papa fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. I fell in love with you, too, but Papa saw you first. When we found out your Mommy was dead, Papa said he wanted you to be with us and we brought you home."

"We adopted you," Illya explained, "That means that of all the little girls and boys in the world, we chose you to be with us."

That made Leona smile for the first time since this discussion began. "You mean you could have brought home another little girl?"

The Russian smiled broadly and wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "I did not want another little girl or little boy. I wanted only you, Daughter. Remember what I said about why my smile is so big in the picture you have of the two of us in your room?"*

Leona nodded her head and replied, "You said that was the day I made you a Papa." She thought about that for a moment before saying, "If my Mommy was alive, would you still be my Papa?"

"No, Leona, I would not be your Papa."

"But, Daddy would still be my Daddy."

"No, Daddy would not be your Daddy, either. He is your Daddy because I am your Papa." Illya wondered what Leona was thinking as she sat quietly in his lap.

Finally, she looked up at him and smiled. "I'm sorry Mommy is dead, but I'm glad you're my Papa and Daddy's my Daddy," she said as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him as he kissed her temple. She then got down and went to Napoleon who was still seated on the floor and hugged him hard.

"Oh, nice hug!" he exclaimed. He looked over her head at Illya and said, "Papa and I are going to the kitchen to talk. Do you want to keep watching 'Wonderama'?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay, we'll be back shortly. Maybe with some cookies and milk." The two men walked down the hall to the kitchen and Illya pulled the door until it was slightly ajar. "Tovarisch, I think you handled that very well."

"Spacibo. She may have other questions in the near future, but for now, I think she is satisfied." He leaned back to see if Leona might be coming, but he could still see her sitting on the floor watching television. "I am starting to dislike Leona's classmates."

Napoleon chuckled, "They're just kids, Illya; naturally curious kids trying to figure out their world. Leona is the only kid they know who doesn't have a Mommy, but has two fathers. We were going to have to tell her something one day."

The Russian crossed his arms and nodded tightly. "I was not sure I should tell her her mother is dead, but she seemed to take it well."

"I think it's a safe bet that she would rather have us than a mother she never knew. I dread the day she wants to know details about her mother."

Illya checked the hallway again. "I do not want my child to know she is the bastard of a dead whore. Ever."

"I'm sure we can give her more information without telling her that. No one knows that except us and I'm never going to tell her so we agree." Napoleon reached into the cabinet to grab a box of Oreos. "Pass me the milk, please."

As Illya got the milk from the fridge he said, "I think I will take Leona tomorrow to buy a Mother's Day card for Rosie."

Napoleon lifted the tray that contained three glasses of milk and a plate of cookies. As his partner and co – parent held the door for him he said, "That's a nice idea, Illya. She'll like that."

*ref. "Sugar and Spies"

**ref. "One of Leona's Favorite Things"