Since the last one was a bit shorter, I'm giving you two chapters today. Enjoy! This one is also a bit shorter than my other ones. But this one has a bit of Arthur/Stryker bonding in it. Sort of. Anyway, I think you'll enjoy it. Poor Arthur...

NOVEMBER 13

I walked out into the backyard, carrying my laptop, where Dad and Stryker were enjoying the undoubtedly only sunshine we'd get this month. It was really nice outside.

"What are you two doing?"

My nearly two-year-old son was holding a wooden spoon in his right hand. Dad was duct-taping a couple of paper towel rolls to a crate. "Tee-ball," Dad answered. "I'm going to teach Stryker how to play."

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Uh, Dad. Isn't he a little young for that? He's not even two yet. I don't think he's old enough to understand the rules of a sport like tee-ball."

Dad scoffed. "We're doing a simplified version. Besides, a boy is never too young for sports."

"How would you know?" I teased. "You only had girls."

"I know. I tried teaching each of you girls tee-ball. That was a disaster. Harper and Maddie both threw fits when they got all dirty, and then you tried to beat the crap out of me. But Stryker is going to love it. It's in his name!"

I shook my head at him. Not because I thought that Stryker wouldn't love it, but because my father was an idiot. "Uh, Dad? How do you expect to teach him how to play tee-ball when you don't even know how to play? Strikes are for bowling. And that is not why I gave him that name."

"I know that, Mackenzie. I just…"

"Being an idiot?" I finished for him.

"Oh, never mind. I'm going to teach my grandson how to play tee-ball, which is a manly thing to do."

"Whatever," I muttered. I sat on the patio table and opened my laptop. I figured I may as well enjoy the sunshine, too, while I worked on my homework. Plus, I had a feeling that this little activity of Dad's was going to result in some hilarious moments and I wanted to be there to witness them.

"All right, Stryks. Ready?" Dad asked, holding up a whiffle ball. He placed it on top of his makeshift tee. "Now, use the spoon to hit the ball."

Stryker used the spoon, all right, but it didn't hit the ball.

Not the whiffle ball, at least.

Dad doubled over, huffing in pain.

I just started laughing. I couldn't help it. My son had a good arm, and he'd gotten Dad right between the legs. That had to hurt. Stryker looked at me, then at Dad, then back at me. Then he started laughing, too.

I was still chortling when, a few minutes later, my cell phone rang. "H-hello?" I answered, not quite in control of my breath yet.

A scream sounded in my ear. Cringing, I pulled the phone away. Once the screaming died down, I put it back against my ear.

"Oh my gosh," Maddison gushed. "Oh my gosh. You'll never guess what just happened."

"Um, Sammy proposed?"

"Yes!" she squealed.

I sat up straight, my eyes widening. "Wait, seriously? I only said that to be a doofus. He really proposed? When? How?"

"Just now. Well, sort of just now."

I nearly growled. "Maddison. Explain. Now."

"Okay, okay. Well, you know that I've been spending a lot of time at his apartment lately. He had this jigsaw puzzle out on his dining table. He put some of the outside pieces together, but that was it. It was starting to drive me crazy. He said it was too hard for him because it didn't have a picture to follow. You know that I can't resist a puzzle. So I put it together for him. It was a beautiful picture of the beach, with the words, 'Maddie, marry me?' written in the sand. He had it specially made for me."

I was impressed. "That was pretty clever." Maddie seriously couldn't resist doing a puzzle. It was like a compulsion for her. "Did he get you a ring, too?"

"Yes, and it's beautiful. I'll show you when I get home."

"So when do you think you'll get married?"

"Somewhere around July."

"Wait," Dad said suddenly. "Mackenzie, am I hearing this right? Are you…Is your twin getting married?"

I stared at him. He was still bent over slightly, but Stryker was now hitting the tee with the spoon. Repeatedly. And giggling as he did so. Well, at least he was enjoying himself. "Um, yes."

Dad groaned. "I'm not ready for her to get married. I'm not ready for any of my girls to get married."

"Um, you're already a grandpa. What's the difference?"

"It's…It's just…It's completely different, okay?"

Before I could say anything else, Stryker's spoon hit Dad between the legs.

Again.