Undefeated (Unexpected Book 5) by Claudia Burgoa

prepare.”
    “With fortune cookies?” Harper bounces excitedly all over the kitchen when Porter nods. “Mom, pretty please. We haven’t had Chinese in forever .”
    That’s true, it’s been a few months since I shook the slump and went back to cooking healthy meals. Since Leo died, the only lists I relied on to feed my children were the takeout menus. First it was comfort food, because Leo and I ordered takeout to celebrate, or when it was too cold outside to kick the blankets off and get out of bed. Then it became easier to let others cook for me, since I had a hard time getting out of bed. Planning an entire meal felt like a task I couldn’t accomplish in less than an hour. It wasn’t until my checking account informed me that I was spending too much money on meals that I could prepare at home while bringing back my cooking skills.
    Porter pulls his out phone staring at me, when I nod he taps his phone, and then frowns. “What do you guys usually get?”
    “Chicken fried rice, beef and broccoli, and sweet and sour shrimp.”
    “That’s my favorite,” he says, keeping his eyes on the phone while he finishes tapping it. Then lifts his gaze. “I should be back in twenty minutes.”
    “Aren’t they delivering it?”
    “No, that’ll take about an hour, it’s best if I go and pick it up.”

    Leo was allergic to shrimp. The countless times I ordered sweet and sour shrimp, I had to wash my hands, brush my teeth, and make sure I sanitized the area where I ate. Today I don’t worry about anything but savoring my meal and sharing it with my neighbor. It’s strange that he’s somehow becoming part of our family. We share at least one meal together every day—dinner. He interacts with Finn and Harper daily, playing the guitar for them while they play outside, or helping them while they ride their bike and scooter.
    Porter waves at my kids who are placing their plates in the sink. “If it’s okay with you, we could take them to the park,” he whispers so close to my ear that his warm breath raises the hairs on the back of my neck. I shake slightly as the sensation ripples through my entire body. It’s a strange sensation that I brush away. “We can take Harper’s bike along with us.”
    I respond with a light, snarky remark. “For a guy that hates to talk, you’re being too social today.” I smirk at him.
    Between the permanent frown and serious lips, a smile appears. “Is that a ‘yes, let’s head to the park?’”
    I agree, because for once I don’t want the day to end. Today I don’t miss my old life. This is one of those strange perfect days, which I haven’t had in a long time. Once we finish cleaning the kitchen, we ready the kids and ourselves and head to the park. It takes a while for us to arrive, since Finn is set on riding his scooter all the way there. Once we reach the park, I stay with my little boy on the playground while Porter jogs behind Harper as she rides around the bike trails. If I had met him today, I’d assume he’s a father, or that he’s close to his nieces and nephews. But he doesn’t have a family. Another puzzle piece appears and, as all the others, I don’t know where to place it.
    When it comes time to leave, Finn extends his arms to me so I can carry him. But Porter intercepts him, picking him up as if he’s used to having a little boy in his arms, and then scoops up his scooter too.
    Porter helps me with their bedtime and stays while I read a book to them. Once I shut the door, I can’t help but ask where he learned to be so good with children.
    He shrugs. “One of my foster fathers has a huge family back in New York. The times I visited, I had to pitch in—everybody helps one another. Babysitting, cooking, or something alike.”
    I add that information to the tapestry of stories and memories he shares. There aren’t many pieces yet, but it builds on who he is. Maybe someday I’ll know him well enough to consider him a friend.
    “Thank you for today,”