All familiar characters belong to Janet. Mistakes are mine alone.

"If you'll remember, Mabyn said a change of clothes wasn't necessary!" I called to my wife.

Since Steph has yet to come out of the walk-in closet, I looked down at the little lady reclining against my side on our big bed. Mado took possession of Steph's pillow beside me, and Mo and Gunny are sitting diagonally on both sides of my daughter, effectively keeping her from climbing down without them.

"She also said this wasn't a big deal," my wife answered a few seconds later, reemerging and holding a gunmetal gray dress I haven't seen before, "and we all know it is ... so we're dressing the part. Well, Olive and I are. You always look good. Plus, 'festive' isn't really your thing."

Olivia didn't voice her opinion on the matter, being too busy poking the fabric rose on the belt of her 'party' dress. That was the subject of a separate discussion Steph and I'd had ... why our daughter had to change out of a red-flowered dress and put into another one? This one just being more on the metallic side. The reason I was given was Olive's earlier outfit was a casual dress, and this one is worthy of a celebration. I didn't get it then, and I don't now. I'd say it must be a 'girl thing', but I would like to use my dick later and I wanted it loved by Stephanie, not harmed in retaliation for something I said out loud to her.

"I don't care how I look, Babe. And neither does Tank. I mean this with respect, but he doesn't care what you or Olivia put on either. He cares about the people, not their appearance."

"I know that, but I want Tank and Mabyn to know that they are important to us and warrant a little effort on our part."

"I'm not changing," I reminded her.

"You don't have to. Olive and I have you covered. Right, Olive? Tonight may even require your little bow headband. Hold on, I'll go grab it."

As we waited for her to return, I tried to map out what kind of night is ahead of me. Steph told Tank that she wouldn't ask him any questions about his lady, but that didn't stop her from questioning me. She did some research on her own when I took too long debating if I should admit I'd had her checked out as soon as I got her name from our client list.

Mabyn's a year younger than the three of us. Her father's Canadian and her mother is Haitian, and the two moved to Jersey three years before Mabyn was born, having no more kids after her. She works for a reputable software company over in Pennington, has never been married, and more importantly ... has never had any run-ins with the law or anyone else we may need to be concerned about. She volunteers at her local homeless shelter and battered women's facility every weekend, alternating between the two. I should say that's what she did before her father's diagnosis, now her charitable acts have had to be limited to her family.

I'd worry about Tank falling too hard too fast, though he'd bust my balls for that … given how I became obsessed with Stephanie the second I'd laid eyes on her, but I firmly believe he and Mabyn need each other right now. She could use someone to help her through her father's illness, and Tank can finally admit that he deserves to have a woman in his life who can love all of him.

Steph returned and slid the little headband into place, allowing Olivia's beautiful face to distract me so my wife could duck into the bathroom to change faster than I thought was possible.

"Okay, Boys," Steph said to our dogs four minutes later, while slipping one black heel onto her foot, followed by the other, "you guys get to stay here and keep an eye on Mado. Olive will be back soon."

The boys wagged their tails and tipped their heads to the side at her words, not understanding them but recognizing the affectionate tone she was laying on them. She scratched both behind the ears, kissed them on their heads, and then reached for our daughter. I stood then, knowing that all we need are our coats and Steph and Olivia's bags before we're ready to roll.

Getting Olivia out of the building and buckled in took longer than the drive to Tank's place. And getting her unbuckled, and my ladies' things out of the Cayenne, was decidedly more work than walking up to his house. But I didn't mind. This is exactly what I'd envisioned my company becoming. I don't hire people solely for what they can do for Rangeman, I'd hoped to create a mutually-beneficial bond with every man I employ. They give me their best, and in return … I'll help them reach their full potential using every resource I have. I wanted a complete life for Tank more than anyone, and I realized it may be possible once I heard that he and a client had kept in contact.

Tank opened the door and stepped back to let us all inside. My training took over as Mabyn introduced herself, putting the actual woman in place of just the information I'd had on her. I noted her height … five-eight. Hair, eye, and skin color … brown, hazel, and a tone somewhere between mine and Tank's. And what she's wearing … an emerald green silk blouse with black pants and heels. If she hurts my friend or goes missing, I'll be able to find her.

Tank was looking at her in an entirely different way, and unfortunately for him ... Olivia noticed. Instead of wanting to get down to run to him, or reach out for him to take her for their customary hug, she gripped the shoulders of my unzipped jacket and turned her face into my neck. I'm not as troubled by her reaction as I should be. Having a daughter before Olivia arrived, had me learning fast that I need to appreciate - and hoard - any affection given while they're still willing to offer it, even if it's at Tank's expense.

His expression didn't change but his eyes conveyed confusion. Clearly he thought we were joking about our daughter's crush on him, and he didn't take it as the warning it was intended to be.

"Hi, Olive," Mabyn said, breaking the sudden bout of silence. "I'm your GodTank's friend ... Mabyn. See how I made that rhyme? I hope to be your friend too."

That introduction had Olive turning her head away from me to move her attention even further away from the happy couple.

"She'll be alright in a minute," I assured them. "This is all new for her."

"Tank! You have a lamp now?" Steph asked, not-so-smoothly changing the subject.

After she squeezed Tank's forearm in an 'It'll be okay' gesture, Mabyn answered Steph's question. "That one's my fault. I moved back home to help my Mom take care of my Dad, and sometimes I need a peaceful place to escape to when I can. Pierre's hours are crazy, and at times unpredictable, and I didn't want to disturb whatever rest he's able to get. In the beginning, I thought I could just sneak in and snuggle up to him, but after my first attempt, I understood that any movement near him wakes him up. So now I just read a book out here when I know he's sleeping."

"Which I told you was unnecessary," Tank added.

"And I told you, I don't believe that. Despite your nickname, you are not a tank or any other type of machine that doesn't require sleep, peace, or regular meals. You need time to regroup as much as you say I do."

I kept my eyes on my best friend as Mabyn spoke, curious if he'd show a reaction by arguing with her statement. He didn't, just appeared mildly embarrassed that someone besides my wife and I showed an interest in him taking care of himself.

"Sorry, Big Guy," Steph said to him. "You have people who worry and care about you. You need to finally accept that."

His flicked to Olivia again, who is still refusing to leave me to go to him. "I may have just lost one."

While I am happy that he's in a good place, I will rip his heart out if he breaks my baby's.

"You haven't lost a thing," Mabyn told him. "Stephanie warned me that I will likely have competition for your affection, so I came up with an idea in case I need to help Olive like me."

"It's not that she doesn't like you," my wife told her, "it's that she really loves Tank that's the problem."

"It feels like the same thing from where I'm standing, but I was expecting this. Pierre has shared that Olivia loves more active projects, so I picked up two plastic hammers that we can use in the kitchen if you think she'll be interested in breaking up something to break the ice between us."

"If she isn't," Steph replied. "I am. I wanna see what you have in mind. Point our baby towards the kitchen, Batman."

I followed them, with Olivia now appearing a little curious as to what the adults are conspiring about.

"I told Pierre that I will never ingest something that takes so much effort to chew," Mabyn said, lifting a Ziploc bag from the counter that was full of a cereal I'm very familiar with, "and has zero flavor during the process, unless I grind it up and mix it up with ingredients that actually promise to taste good. I've heard that Olive isn't afraid of applying a little elbow grease to a game so if she wants ... she can pummel the Tank-kibble and I'll make some cookies later that he can bring into work for you all tomorrow."

Steph turned to Olivia and I. "Olive, would you like to help Mama smash up some yucky stuff?" She asked, holding out her arms to our baby.

I detected a twinge of hurt hit Tank as Olivia immediately grabbed onto her Mama. However, I don't think this is an accurate way to judge her current feelings regarding him, since she seldom turns down an adventure or time with Stephanie.

I pulled out a kitchen chair for my wife and daughter to sit down on and Mabyn sat across from them, sliding over the large bag filled with the cereal I also eat that Steph loathes.

"Do you want the red and black hammer, Olive?" Steph asked. "Or the blue and gray one?"

She held up both options in case our baby isn't completely sure of which word group went with what color. She grabbed the blue one and Steph showed her how to hit the bag to break up the whole grain flakes and what Steph still calls 'twigs'.

"She's got a decent arm," Tank said to me, as we watched them turn his multi-grain cereal into flour.

"My women pack a punch in every way it's possible for them to," was my response.

"Hey, Olive," Steph said, after a few more targeted hits, "I bet you can smash more flakes than Mabyn can. Should we let her try?"

Our baby stopped and studied the potential Aunt sitting across from her.

"I don't know if I should. You and your Mommy are doing such a great job," Mabyn told them.

"You never know until you try," Steph replied. "That's what Mama and Daddy say all the time. Don't we, Olive?"

It took a few uncertain moments before she passed her hammer to Mabyn with a "Here ya go," and watched the bag intently to see if the newcomer could do as good a job.

"Thank you, Olive. Here goes nothing …" Mabyn said, and started in on the bag.

Steph waited a few seconds while our baby was focusing on the task at hand to hand her red/black hammer to Olivia. "Here, I think Mabyn may need your help. We need to get this done so we can eat dinner."

It wasn't a lie exactly, Mabyn was holding her own, but as Steph knew our daughter would … Olive took the tool and together she and Tank's lady finished the job together.

"We did it!" Mabyn exclaimed. "High-five, Olive, for a job well done."

It was a smart move, because Olivia high-fives and fist bumps on autopilot at this point.

"Good bog," our baby said back, when she lifted her hand to meet hers.

"Thank you again. I'll just put this aside for later and I'll get back to dinner. I Googled what foods could be choking hazards for a toddler," she said to Steph and I, "so only my culinary skills should be in question. A big birdie told me that Olivia and you both love anything laced with cheese, Stephanie, so I made broccoli cheddar tater tots for something Olivia can eat with her hands or the set of baby utensils I picked up, along with the plastic hammers, on my way here. Pierre told me not to worry about it, but he stopped short of saying not to be concerned because he didn't want me to worry, or because he already had some things on hand for when he babysits." Her dark eyes flicked briefly to Tank and narrowed slightly. "It was the latter, but he had the utilitarian plate, fork, bowl combo, so I'm glad I bought the colorful set with mermaids on them. They made me happy at least."

"That's sweet of you to do," Steph told her, "but you didn't have to go out of your way. We always leave the building prepared for everything. All we need is for Tank to be loved and taken care of. Olive is happy to let Ranger and I do that for her, Tank … not so much."

"Steph," Tank said with a hint of a warning in his growl.

"I don't mind Ranger's best friend watching out for our girls, I feel better and safer with you loving them so much, Tank, so you shouldn't have a problem with your bestie and family caring about you. You can tell us to stop all you want, but I promise … it'll get you nowhere."

He ignored Steph and focused on Mabyn. "Sorry about her. She treats us all like we're her problem to fix."

"Don't make me hurt you," my wife told him. "You're not a problem, and nothing about you needs to be fixed … except your unwillingness to let people love you. We do, so get used to it already."

"Stephanie is right," Mabyn said, cupping his cheek so he'd look at her instead of glaring at my wife. "You don't need to apologize for anything your friends and family do to protect you." She dropped her hand as she looked over at Steph. "Thank you for telling him that. I do care about Pierre. As I told you earlier, I realized what a special man he is early-on, but he refuses to believe what we all see in him."

"Been there and experienced that," my wife said, cutting her eyes briefly to me, "but I promise you … there are no men out there better than our guys. Loving one or all of them is something you'll never regret."

"I'll buy you a birthday cake if you shut up now," Tank said.

"Pierre, be nice to our guests."

"They're not guests, they're family … really annoying members of it," he said under his breath.

"I was already planning to shut up," my wife told him, standing up and passing Olivia to me so she could offer her assistance in getting dinner on the table. "I already know you, it's Mabyn I'm here to talk to."

"I understand One Shot's panic now," Tank bitched to me, but he didn't voice his thoughts until after Stephanie and Mabyn waved us out of the kitchen, already talking like they've known each other for years.

"Why's Steph staying in there? She can't cook and she doesn't like cleaning up after those who do."

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked. "Kitchens are a safe gossip zone. They believe we won't stick around, so they can say whatever they want to each other."

"Fuck that," he stated, and started moving in their direction like I knew he would.

All he got for his invasion were platters of food to carry right back out of the kitchen to set on the dining room table as instructed. I tipped my head to rest against Olivia's as I surveyed Mabyn's handiwork. Tank offered verbal labels to the platters and bowls as he set them down. Roasted salmon risotto, BLT shredded zucchini salad, and Spinach-stuffed chicken breasts, with Fettuccine Alfredo that I know was made solely for Stephanie's benefit.

Although I'm not a fan of the edible-weapon Mabyn brought to the fight and the table, I approve of how she was prepared to go to battle for Tank. He needs a woman who will go out of her way for him.

"There's a Greek yogurt cheesecake for dessert," my wife came back to me to share. "I would question that, but there's still 'cake' in the description, which is reassuring."

"Only you, Babe."

"I'm starting to see those words as a compliment."

"They're meant to be."

She placed her arm around Olivia so she could get close enough to me for a kiss.

"Put the lips away for the night," Tank told us.

"Alright, but in saying that … you just forfeited the right to kiss Olivia goodnight."

"Don't listen to him," Mabyn said to us. "It's actually refreshing, seeing a couple so in love with one another."

"More like addicted to each other," Tank corrected. "They've been like this for over three years now, with no signs of lettin' up."

"That makes it even sweeter, Pierre. Leave them to it. Olivia, I put your high chair at the head of the table right beside your GodTank. All the other seats are up for grabs. Though I guessed one parent will need to be close to her to cut up food or explain what she's trying."

"Ranger and are both handy at meal times, but I'll take that seat, with Ranger beside me so we can ask your intentions towards Tank properly." She paused to take away from what she'd just said. "The table looks great, but before we sit down … you may want to hide the centerpiece," Steph warned. "Our baby will decapitate every flower before I even get started on a plate of that pasta I'm eyeing."

"None of the flowers are poisonous, I double-checked, so Olivia can have as much fun as she likes," Mabyn replied, pulling out a sunflower to give to Olivia once she was sitting in the highchair Tank kept here for emergencies.

If giving her a chance to be destructive isn't already changing Olivia's mind about Tank having company other than hers, handing Olivia a flower the size of her head had their relationship heading in the right direction. Olive's mouth formed an 'O' and then a huge smile took over.

The adults couldn't help but smile back, and then Mabyn went back to one of Steph's comments. "The Fettuccine is one of my favorite dishes to make. I don't do it often, though. I save it for the really bad days when I'll add a ton of sausage to it and a side of cheesy/garlicky breadsticks, or for when I'm meeting a fellow pasta lover. I hope you three will enjoy what's on the table."

My eyes flicked from my wife to the pasta platter she's sitting in front of. "It's more who is sitting around the table that's going to make dinner enjoyable."

They could decide among themselves what I meant by that.