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Jim sighed heavily, and Riley knew this wasn’t going to go well.

“You’re equal in marriage, you’re not equal under family law.”

“Isn’t it a natural progression from the same-sex marriage vote?” Jack asked what Riley was thinking. “That we’re now equal as parents?”

“I wish. There’s this whole mess of family laws that need to be advocated against.”

Riley sighed as heavily as his dad. “Great. More fighting.”

Jack grasped his hand. “It would be worth it, and we have the money to do it.”

“I know. I just want everything to be simple.” Riley had known in his heart it wouldn’t be easy.

“Nothing about this will be simple, son. You remember you faced a maze of legal obstacles to adopting Max before the court’s decision. Same when the twins were born. We tried for you to be named on the papers, but we knew there was no point.”

“I hate that Riley only has limited parental rights for the twins,” Jack said.

Riley nodded. “It’s not fair,” he said.

He didn’t say that kind of thing often, but where his children were concerned, he wanted them to be equal in the eyes of the law. He wanted Jack to be officially recognized as Hayley’s dad, and Max’s. Even the adoption of their little boy had only been in Riley’s name.

“No one ever said life was fair,” Jim said. “I imagine people thought that with same-sex marriage legal, consistent parental rights would follow. I’m sorry it won’t happen that way. Hell, we still have county clerks refusing licenses.”

“We know.”

“So I can’t tell you how long it will take because I don’t know whether more litigation will be needed. As you know, Texas birth certificates only allow for a mother and a father to be listed.”

Riley remembered the day they’d filed the twin’s paperwork, with Jack’s name on there and not his. The non-biological parent had to adopt the child later to gain parental rights. And they’d tried all that and failed, to the point where Riley and Jack had both said they’d rather use legal documentation to delay anything happening to the kids should either Riley or Jack die.

Jim continued. “Couples adopting a child run into our fine state’s requirements for supplemental birth certificates that would establish parental rights for adopters, and you know only one parent is listed for same-sex couples. The Department of State Health Services has already modified marriage licenses to accommodate same-sex couples, but they haven’t made a decision about birth certificates.”

“So, what do we do next?”

“We need to get a family lawyer, one who specializes in this. I have a couple of names. It won’t be cheap.”

Riley glanced at Jack, who returned his gaze steadily.

“We know,” Jack said.

“I’m not sure the matter will be easily resolved. Most family lawyers I spoke to are predicting it’ll take a legal challenge to force the state to modify birth certificates.”

“So we push for that.” Riley was fired up over this. Maybe it should be him and Jack, with the finances they had behind them, to be the trailblazers.

“Think about it,” Jim warned.

Sandra came back at that point, her hair in disarray, Connor on one hip, and Lexie toddling beside her, holding her hand. Sandra had a happy grin on her face.

“Finished?” she asked. “I wanted to ask if I could bathe the kids?”

Riley blinked steadily at his mom, her clothes covered in dirt, Connor chewing her hair, and Lexie yanking at her. “Of course you can,” he said, once he’d gotten over the shock.

She was well away and into the house before Riley turned to his dad.

“What?” was all he said.

Jim winked. “She’s all Zen since she passed sixty; you’d be surprised what we get up to now.”

Riley groaned and buried his head in his hands. “No, I don’t want to know.” He really did not wish to hear about his mom and dad having sex.

“There was this one time—”

Riley was up and away from the table in seconds, with the sound of his father’s and Jack’s laughter following him.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Jack passed his phone to Riley. They were enjoying a lazy Sunday morning, and Jack had not long gotten an e-mail from Robbie.

“And that is them after they were married,” Jack said.

Riley peered at the small screen. Jack’s phone was ancient, held together with hope and prayer, and the viewing area was tiny. “I can make out Elvis,” he said. “Although that could be Robbie. I’m not sure.”

Jack took the phone back and peered at the same picture. “Nope, that’s Elvis.”

“Robbie and Eli were married by an Elvis lookalike?” Riley looked up from the bowl of mashed banana he was feeding Connor. Well, “feeding” was a loose interpretation. More like smearing, throwing, and spitting.

“No,” Jack began in his most patient, you’re-not-really-listening tone. “Robbie and Eli married at this chapel next door to the one with the Elvis lookalike.”

“So, not Elvis.”

“No.”

“What else did the e-mail say?”

Jack sighed. “I read it all out to you. Were you listening?”

Riley side-eyed him with a smirk. “Robbie emailed you to tell you that he and Eli are officially married. That they got married in a chapel, and it was quick but really good, and that they are now having a honeymoon in one of the strip hotels. Oh, and could you advance them a year’s wages so they could go on the slot machines.”

Riley had more or less gotten the entire contents back in the order they’d been said, even the tongue-in-cheek part about the wages. Fucker had been yanking his chain. Connor mouthed at the last spoonful of banana, and Riley raised his hands in fists of triumph.

“A whole banana!” he exclaimed.

Connor grinned, sucked in air, then spat the mouthful out with such force, it ended up on Riley’s shirt, his chin, his neck, and some in his hair.

“Yay,” Jack teased, “a whole banana in your face.”

Riley narrowed his eyes, then addressed Connor. “Don’t listen to mean old Pappa. Like him and Lexie are doing any better.” He held out his hand, palm up, and Connor slapped a sticky, banana-covered tiny fist onto it. “Down low, little man,” Riley said with a smile.

Jack laughed along with them and passed over the ever-present pack of wipes that accompanied every mealtime. Riley cleaned himself up, and finally lifted Connor out of his highchair before rubbing gently at tiny hands with a wipe and their son’s round pink face. Connor squealed and turned his head, blowing a raspberry and showing his baby disdain for everything wipe-like.

“Anyway,” Jack continued, “they’re back a week Friday. I thought we could have them here, get people over, beers, maybe have a small party for them.”

“Sounds good to me.” Riley pushed an envelope toward Jack. “Got a letter from the center about the next education day.”

Jack took the letter out of the envelope and read it. “We should sign up.”

“I’m up for it.”

Riley read out the title. “Communication, word cards and dealing with stress.”

“Our stress, or Max’s?” Jack smiled.

Riley didn’t see the smile, or get the teasing, clearly, as he frowned at the letter. “Max’s, I guess.”

Jack was okay with taking this all seriously; it was what they needed to do. “Sign us up and put it on the board.” He gestured toward the huge organization board that Riley had devised. Riley was excellent at organizing their family to the point where Jack checked the board first before making appointments of any sort.

Where would they be without Riley? Impulsively he leaned over and kissed Riley—a down-and-dirty promise of a kiss.

“What was that for?” Riley asked when Jack moved away.

“Love you,” Jack said. He picked Connor out of Riley’s arms. “Let’s go see horses, little man.” With that, he left, knowing that ten minutes later Riley would join them with Lexie. Sometimes Max would come out, sometimes he wouldn’t. Either way, this was the beginning of half an hour of family time with their babies.