All familiar characters belong to Janet. Mistakes are mine alone. Olive's shirt I saw online.

"Okay, Olive, what color do you think we should start with?" My wife asked our daughter, holding up two of the canvases the men had decorated via Easter egg-grenades.

"Booooo," Olivia said, after what I swear was careful deliberation on her part.

This room is her mini-palace and she appeared to be taking her job of making it her own seriously.

"You heard the girl," Steph said, handing me the predominantly blue splatter-painted panel, "can you put this on the wall for us, Daddy?"

I did as asked and applied fume-free adhesive to the back of the canvas and attached it to the wall where it would butt right up against the top molding. Stephanie and I hadn't been messing around. This hadn't been just a project to kill time and make the holiday feel different than every other day we've spent isolated together, it was an artistic love letter to our daughter from her Uncles that she can take with her when her wings are big enough for her to fly from our nest and think about building one of her own.

I got a round of applause from both my wife and my daughter when the canvas stayed on the wall they had slated for redecoration purposes. My eyebrow went up at the sound of the first clap.

"Don't eyebrow us," Steph said. "You more than anybody know that around here, if you do a great job ... you get acknowledged and rewarded for it. And Daddy did good, didn't he, Olive-Pie?"

I received an even more enthusiastic hand clapping from the tiny girl Kane calls my 'Pigtailed-Princess', and also a thrown-hug around my legs less than a beat after it became quiet again. I bent down and lifted my baby up for a kiss before we both moved onto the second canvas.

Steph held up two more. "Which one should go up next?" She asked Olivia.

"Bing."

Steph stared at the wall as I glued and hung the mostly-pink artwork. "Is it just me, or is this looking like the start of a gender reveal party for a set of twins?"

"Maybe you should hold up two black-based ones next," I suggested.

It still surprised me how intently Steph listens to me now. She has in the past, on occasion, when it was a life or death situation. Even then, her first impulse had been to argue her independence. Only after she had wound down and realized she was in over her head would she be willing to completely hear me out and accept any assistance I offered her. After we got together, she slowly began to see that we both have a say in what we do, separately and as a couple. And she relaxed her defenses - and her admirable pride - to allow me to use all of my expertise in order to help her remain safe.

A black, purple, and pastel green mottled canvas and another that was just black and silver were the next options for Olivia to choose between. Two more were held up until there was nothing left in the stack. When we had the entire wall covered from molding to molding, we stood back and admired our morning's work.

The three of us increased to five, after Mo and Gunny gave up on us joining them in the living room and brought their chew toys with them and decided to settle in here to be with us. I glanced at the pile of fur so I wouldn't give into the idiotic urge to flinch under an intense pang of pain when I looked at the change to Olivia's nursery. Although the Metallica 'Until I Sleep' T-shirt she's wearing is still in the tail end of baby sizes, this change to the room she's had since she came home from the hospital, feels like she's taking too big a leap into toddler-hood when I'm not ready to give up my baby girl.

"You don't like it?" Steph asked, carefully watching my face. "I know splatter paint doesn't fit with what you prefer for apartment decor ..."

I used the arm not holding our daughter to loop around her shoulders. "It's perfect, Babe. The change just reminded me that Olivia isn't our newborn baby anymore."

"You'd think her destroying our apartment under her own steam would have told you that she's no longer a helpless infant. But don't worry, I've already warned both Olive and Julie that they are always going to be our girls no matter how old they get."

"Julie learned long ago what to expect on that front."

My wife nodded. "And she hasn't had any complaints as far as I've heard since she got to really know you. Though I do understand what's going through your mind right now, being the one who actually grew Olive from a teeny people-egg."

I dodged a pigtail as Olivia turned in my arms to look over my shoulder at her dogs. "Do tell," I told Stephanie.

"It was the same for me when Olivia got her big girl bed. Her nursery getting upgraded is proof that our baby is growing up, but keep in mind ... Julie's officially a teenager and you were right there with me to see how excited she was to unwrap the splatter art she'd received that her Uncles had done just for her."

That one is another memory I'll never forget. The men had taped out an outline of Jersey on a larger canvas and then proceeded to splatter the shit out of the rest of it, finishing it with a crystal heart placed where Trenton is located. It was a collaborative effort between Steph, my men, and I, on the shape they would use for our eldest to remind her that Jersey is as much her home as the tip of Florida is.

"I admit, I was worried Julie's smile would threaten the bones in her face when she FaceTimed us for that one," I replied.

My wife grinned knowingly. "Yup. So you see, they are ours for life ... and no one can change that, not even the two of them. And by the way … neither girl seems to want to," she said, noting how Olive went from talking to her dog-babies over my shoulder to sort of melting into it as the morning-long activity caught up to her.

Her perch on me became a sleepy hug that I haven't been released from yet.

"Only Batman could manage to have two 'Daddy's Girls' who literally melt whenever he's near them. You're going to have to add that to your list of superpowers."

"Funny," I said, but I wrapped my arms around Olivia and slid my hand up and down her back in the way that appears to hypnotize her into a peaceful sleep.

Steph sidled closer and kissed our baby and then me. "You know ... when you do that to me, I have the opposite reaction."

I gave her a wolf grin. "I know ... and I'll be putting that to the test again later."

"Promises, promises," she said, and moved to take Olive.

She won't say it out loud, but I know the looming conversation she's going to have to have with Frank is weighing heavily on her mind. And as a result, any time she gets an opportunity to cuddle our daughter at length, she takes it. Trying to offset the sins of thy father is my guess, in the most beneficial way to our children.

"Hah, now I've got you," I heard Steph declare forty-two minutes later.

I glanced over, though I know nothing has changed in our apartment. Gunner and Ammo are mirroring Olivia and are napping in front of the couch where my wife is lounging with our baby half-resting on her and half-tucked into the couch.

"Catch Lester's skip for him, did you, Babe?"

"I couldn't resist, it's not like I was going anywhere. Why not help Lester out and brush up on my skills at the same time while I have our baby snuggling up to me? Talk about having the best of both worlds."

Snuggling Olivia is definitely doing. Along with her red, heavy metal T-shirt, Olivia had on a ruffled denim skirt and no foot restrictions. All fingers, toes, and limbs were somehow gripping some area of Steph's body … a fistful of Rangeman T-shirt, toe-grip on one of my wife's shapely jeans-clad leg, and a little mouth breathing openly against her chest. She can say all she wants that Olivia thinks the sun and moon rise with me ... but it's clear to anyone looking that she loves her Mama just as much. Once again, I can't help but think we lucked out that our daughter has inherited our independent streaks. While she is happy to sleep with us, she also enjoys her alone time when she's by herself in her own bed.

"You may have set a new record for getting a loved one to cough up an FTA's whereabouts," I said, giving credit where it's due.

I'm not entirely comfortable with how easily Stephanie can convincingly lie, but it's a major asset when it comes to catching fugitives with limited exposure to the general public.

"It takes just the right amount of lying, sympathy, and eyerolling on my end," she replied. "It's an interesting study on how many tips I get due to anger, versus family and friends feeling like they're doing the right thing by ratting their people out for their own good."

"You really are impressive, Steph. You went from not being open to any suggestions on how to do your job safely and more efficiently, to using every case you get as a way to improve on the next one."

"That was about the nicest way I've ever heard of saying I've gone from reckless to rational."

I grinned at her before risking waking the mutts to move close enough to kiss her. After a leisurely exploration of her mouth, she was the one smiling with her eyes still closed when I drew back at the sound of my cell's muted ringing.

I answered it quickly so it wouldn't disturb Olivia by being a different noise than our quiet talking. And I closed it again just as swiftly after only two sentences had been spoken between the man on the other end and myself. One line each was our limit. Stephanie already had her eyebrows up in question when I turned back to her.

"What was that about?" She asked me.

"My past went ahead and decided to call me."