"Henry!" Coach Freeman called, waiting for the boy to look up from the dribbling drills he was completing across the field. "Your mo- , I mean your, um, step-mother?" He trailed off. "Your ride is here!" he yelled again, more confidently.

"It's his mom's girlfriend," Jake teased, loud enough for the boys around him to hear, kicking his ball toward Henry's legs as the blond boy started jogging toward the bench to collect his belongings. "What do you even call her, LaMontagne?"

The other boys laughed. "Well, if they're not married, she's nothing to him," Dylan piped up. "That's what my mom said about dad's girlfriend. 'She gets no say in the way you're raised, Dylan,'" he mocked. "'We'll re-assess if she's ever got a ring on her finger.'"

Henry felt himself reddening as he took a long drink from his water bottle. "Shut up, guys. It's not like that."

"Hey, man, we're just teasing," Jake claimed, raising his hands in surrender.

"Yeah, Henry, relax," his friend Max added, turning to address the other boys. "Agent Prentiss is awesome. I've been to their house a bunch of times. She's lived there since like what, third grade? She's real nice to Henry and his brother."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Amanda's always nice when people are watching too. Doesn't mean she likes me though. Pretty sure she gets annoyed when I stay there 'cause I take my dad's attention away from her. Your mom treat you different when the girlfriend's not around, Henry?"

"Leave it alone, guys." Henry tossed his water bottle into his drawstring bag and slung both that and his backpack over his shoulder. "I gotta go."

"Better not keep your ride waiting," Dylan yelled after him. "I'd hate to see her get fed up with you and leave your mom, too! Not like she's even got her own kids worth sticking around for!"

"Screw you, Dylan," Henry gritted out under his breath, surprising even himself with his use of language. He'd heard worse in the halls and on the soccer field, but he'd never said anything like that aloud before. Breaking into a run, Henry tried to put some distance between himself and his teammates before he felt the urge to scream it even louder.

"Have a good weekend, Henry!" Coach Freeman waved, completely unaware of the conversation his players were engaging in on the other side of the field and how his own words had gotten it started. "See you Monday!"

Slowing down as he crested the hill at the edge of the soccer field and Emily's SUV came into view, Henry steeled himself with a few deep breaths. Opening the back door, he threw his bags on the floor with a little more force than intended.

"Hey, bud," Emily greeted. "Cleats off before you get in, don't forget." Henry sighed, kicking off his cleats as he pulled a pair of sandals out of his drawstring bag, swapping his footwear with a roll of his eyes. Hopping into the front seat and buckling his seatbelt, he slammed the door shut. He could feel Emily's eyes on him but refused to make eye contact yet, staring out the window instead. "How was practice?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?" Emily asked, sliding the car into drive and beginning to navigate out of the school's back parking lot.

"Yup."

Twelve was a hard age for everybody, and Henry was no exception. In so many ways he was still a little boy, but seemingly out of nowhere he was becoming a young man. It wasn't unheard of for him to have a surly day now and then, but he always managed to recognize it and pull himself out of it so quickly it barely registered to those around him. Emily sighed, eyeing him briefly before pulling out onto the main road. "'Practice was great,'" she lowered her voice an octave in imitation, even though Henry's voice was not yet any lower than her own. "'How was your day?'"

Hoping for a laugh or even a smile, anything to break the ice, Emily was disappointed to get no reaction at all. "Alright then," she sighed. "How 'bout this? 'Practice sucked, Emily. I scored four times on my own goalie before I realized I was wearing my underwear outside of my shorts.'" Henry at least looked at her this time, and Emily was surprised to see his face red and his eyes shimmering with tears. "Henry? Are you okay?"

"Did you hear him?" he spoke, finally.

"Hear who, buddy?"

"Coach. When he called me over when you got there."

Emily shook her head. "No, I didn't. I'm sorry. What did he say?"

"He called you my mom. Well, he started to, and then he stopped, and then he didn't know what to call you."

Emily breathed out. "Okay. And how did that make you feel?"

"I don't know. Weird. Embarrassed, maybe?" They were both quiet for a minute while they sat at a red light, only continuing the conversation again when the car was in motion. "It's not that you embarrass me, it's just…" he trailed off again. "The other kids say stuff sometimes too."

Emily swallowed her anger, schooling her features to remain as calm and neutral as possible, doing her best to let Henry lead the conversation. "Like what?"

"Well, they all laughed. And Jake said you were just mom's girlfriend, like he thought it was so funny."

"Wait a second," Emily interrupted gently, looking quizzically at Henry. "Isn't Jake the one with two moms?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Well, why would he make fun of you if he has two moms too?"

"I don't," Henry whispered, then louder: "I don't have two moms."

"Oh, right," Emily agreed softly. "I suppose you don't." They were quiet again for a minute. "So it's not a gay thing?"

Henry let out a quiet chuckle, and Emily breathed a sigh of relief at the first signs of his usual cheerful personality peeking through. "Nope, not a gay thing."

"I'm glad."

"It doesn't seem fair," Henry continued, pinching the bridge of his nose in a way that was just so JJ Emily couldn't hold back a slight smile. "Everybody else's families just seem so…normal, you know? And mine is…they just don't get it."

Emily's heart leapt into her throat upon hearing Henry's voice crack a little as he spoke, and she fought the urge to reach her hand across the center console in an attempt to provide him some kind of comfort. Settling for resting her hand on the gearshift instead, she paused a moment, giving the boy an opportunity to continue before saying anything herself. "What do you mean?" she asked gently, prompting him to elaborate upon realizing he wasn't going to on his own.

"Like the guys on the team," he shrugged. "Most of them have two parents and they all live in the same house together. Moms and dads, or just moms, or whatever. They're regular families."

"There must be other kids whose parents are divorced like yours," Emily prodded. Will and JJ had been separated for five years, but worked so hard to continue to co-parent their boys, remaining constant fixtures in each other's lives despite the fact their marriage hadn't worked out.

"Yeah," Henry agreed, "but it's different than for us. Dylan's dad has a girlfriend and, like, none of them even like each other. Dylan's mom doesn't want her in their lives, and she doesn't like Dylan at all."

"Henry, your mom and dad work really hard to make sure that's not what your life is like."

"I know, I know," Henry responded earnestly. "And I'm not saying that our way is wrong. People just don't get it. They think our family is weird and they act like you don't even matter, and…" Henry paused, realizing he had been speaking faster and faster. "I don't want you to leave because me and Michael get in the way of you having the relationship you want with mom."

"Sweetheart, that could never happen," Emily responded, giving in and reaching her hand over, settling it on Henry's knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm not going to promise you that your mom and I will be together forever, because I can't see the future and I know that's not fair to you. I hope that we are, but I know that you know that sometimes relationships just aren't meant to be no matter how hard adults try to make it work, right?" Henry nodded. "But what I can promise you is that you and your brother have never and will never have anything but a positive impact on our relationship. Do you understand me?"

"I just…I love my dad. He's my dad, you know?" Emily nodded, wanting so badly to pull the car over and pull Henry into her arms, but knowing that he was much more likely to continue the conversation as they drove, the safety of sitting side by side with limited direct eye contact helping him to feel more comfortable sharing his emotions. "But sometimes I can't help but wish that you were just my mom instead."

Squeezing Henry's knee again before taking her hand back and running it through her hair, Emily took a minute to determine her response. "What do you think would be different if I were?" she spoke, finally.

"People wouldn't say things about our family."

"I mean with us, bud. What would be different with us?"

Henry looked down at his lap, really thinking about the question. "I don't know," he shrugged. "I've never technically had another mother. What do you think?"

"Well, I've never technically been a mother," she answered honestly. "But I always imagined it would look a lot like this."

Henry looked up, meeting her gaze. "Like what?"

"Like driving an SUV back and forth to soccer practice, and making sure you take your muddy cleats off before you mess up my floorboards. Like throwing in a load of your sweaty almost-teenage boy laundry before I order your favorite pizza for dinner. Like feeling so proud to have such a smart and sensitive and mature conversation with you when you're feeling upset about something, but feeling a little sad at the same time because it seems like just yesterday that I could fix one of your bad days just by curling up on the couch with you and watching Finding Nemo, and I don't think we're going to get that back again.

"I've been around in some form or another since the beginning, Henry. I held you in the hospital on the day you were born. Over the years, I didn't just fall in love with your mom, I fell in love with you and with Michael. And maybe I don't tell you that enough, maybe I'm too careful because I never want you to feel like I'm trying to replace your dad. I know our family isn't the most conventional, but it is a family, and I feel like your mom."

This time Henry was the one to reach across the center console, grabbing Emily's hand and giving it a brief squeeze. "I know," he spoke softly. "I just wish everybody else understood how it is too, you know?"

"I do, bud, I do." Emily hesitated. "Remember when you met my mother a couple years ago?"

Henry nodded. "She came for Thanksgiving dinner but left before dessert."

"Right," she confirmed, blowing out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "She told me that she thought your mom was lovely and you and Michael were delightful, but that I should stop 'playing house' with you guys and put some effort into starting my own family so that she could spend holidays with her own grandchildren." Emily paused, gauging Henry's reaction before continuing. "I told her that you are my family, and she could either get on board with that and have pie with me, my partner, and the fabulous grandsons she already has, or she could leave."

He was quiet a moment, studying his hands in his lap. "Were you sad that she decided to leave?"

"Of course I was," Emily admitted, slowing down as she made the turn into their neighborhood. "But do you remember what happened next?"

Henry shook his head.

"We put Michael to bed, and then you and your mom and me ate an entire chocolate pie between the three of us, and then we snuggled on the couch together and watched the repeat of the Macy's parade. And every time I started to feel sad, I'd kiss your mom or listen to you laugh or peek in on Michael sleeping in his room and remember that I had everything I ever needed in the whole world, right there in our house."

Henry smiled for the first time since he'd gotten in the car, but Emily could see it didn't reach his eyes. "I wish I had a better answer for you, sweetheart," she spoke softly, pulling into their driveway and parking beside JJ's SUV. "I know we still have to figure out how to handle your friends, but know that you're not alone in this, not ever, okay?" Henry nodded. "Your mom and your dad and I are all here for you and we will work together with you to figure this out, I promise."

"Thanks, Emily," Henry spoke seriously, reaching behind him to grab his bags before getting out of the car. Looking back at her, his smile widened and his eyes brightened as he spoke again. "Are we really ordering pizza tonight? I'm hungry."

"You bet," Emily grinned.

"Sweet."