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"Abel, honey, please don't play with Mama's files." It's odd, the things that echo the past.

Abel had been taken from home when he was too young to remember what he'd learned over the two extra years he'd had with Tara and Jax - and his grandmother - but he still had some of the exact same habits, like how he currently had managed to grab some of the manilla folders that Tara had stacked on the coffee table so she could do her paperwork and still be with her family.

Keira was on her hip, lunging for the pureed sweet potatoes that Tara was heating up, and she could hear Thomas 'reading' to himself in their bedroom over the sound of the TV.

"Jax, honey," Tara called over her shoulder, "could you give Abel a coloring book and put up my files? I need to feed your daughter before we go out to dinner." His daughter, said with good humor purely because in times like these, she'd sometimes say the kids were his, like she's avowing herself of responsibility.

The fact that the file Abel was currently scrawling all over wasn't one of her patients probably was worse than him drawing on them, but she didn't actually know that, yet. All she knew was that they were going out to dinner tonight - she was actually dressing up in a dress short enough that if they actually made it to the restaurant, it'd be a miracle, and Molly was watching the kids - he deserved a good birthday, and she'd do her best to make it happen.

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Tara Knowles

January 2021

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