"I found the love note in her bag," I say, pacing the floor at Flynn's office, recalling the scene that played out last night with Ana in our bedroom—the shock, the betrayal, the knife through my heart. "We were going to take a shower and she asked me to grab her a hair tie..." I run a sweaty palm through my mop. "I couldn't find one on her end table, so I reached into her purse to look and there it was—a damn declaration of love from some fucker named Michael G."

"Did you confront her about this?" Flynn asks, with his pen propped against his lip.

"Yes,..." I put my hands over my face. The pain too great. "She said she knew I'd go crazy, so she was trying to spare my feelings by hiding it. She tried to stop me from reading the thing, but I had to see with my own eyes." I hold my clasped fist to my lips.

"What did the note say?" He shifts in his chair, focusing intently on me.

"Bee Mine," I say, those two word seared in my brain until time's end. "The first word appropriately spelled like the insect it was from." I pick up my pacing. "And there was a little bumble bee fucker on the front of the card with his stinger sticking out and smiling at a flower with these big cartoon pop eyes like he was some kind of a garden rapist." Flynn hands me a little bean bag ball for me to squish out my rage. "How can they sell that kind of pornography at the Hallmark store?"

Squish, squish.

"And what's worse is that wasn't the end if it," I say, digging my fingernails into the squish. "There were four more stuffed down in her bag from others—a Timmy and a Sam and a JJ and some fucker who signed it Romeo, but I'm still not sure if that's really his name or just his intention."

"What did Ana say to all of this?"

"She said I shouldn't be so upset and I should expect it. That it was Valentine's Day." I squeeze the ball with both hands and nearly rip it in two. "But, who the hell expects their four-year-old daughter to get all those Valentine's cards?"

I look over to him—lost, afraid, my heart breaking—and I think he's fighting a smirk.

"So, Ana isn't alarmed?" he asks.

"No, she thinks it's normal and innocent. Cute even. But, what's innocent about a bee wanting to stick his thing into a full bloom flower?" Christ, what's going to happen when we actually have the birds and bees talk? All she'll think of is that horny one.

"Christian, I have to agree with Ana here."

"Of course you do. You always do. All of you mentally stable people stick together!"

"Phoebe's four years old. I don't think she's going to take up with any of these other four year old boys just yet." He laughs. Of course he mocks my pain while he charges by the minute.

"See there, you said it— just yet. Which implies that it may not be happening currently at the moment, but it's coming—like a tsunami. You think the water's all peaceful, then wham! Dad's guts are slammed against some rock and swept out to sea." I fist my hand around the ball. It's no longer a squish, it's a full blown squeezer. "First, it's cute little heart doilies with stickers and glitter, then it's "hey let's watch Netflix and chill while my parents are in Waikiki and we can lie to your father about it," and then, it's "Dad, I'm pregnant and I'm dropping out of high school."

I flop onto his couch and throw my head back, discarding the ball on the table. The fucking thing's not bringing me any relief. Only the cracked skull of Phoebe's future boyfriend would do that. We're quiet for a moment, which only leaves my thoughts to pound my head.

"I see this as a positive," he says, finally breaking the silence.

"Of course you would." He loves when things get my emotions all stirred up. If Flynn could come back as a kitchen appliance, he'd be a blender.

"I thought you of all people would see that your daughter's comfortability in social situations is remarkable. She's not afraid to be who she is and others respond to this."

"Yeah, others. Not boys! Boys are all perverts. I don't care how young they are or how sweet acting, all of them are perverts. Believe me, I know first hand about perverts."

Flynn shakes his head and writes something. Probably a prescription.

"What about Teddy? How's he doing?"

"He's the only one I'm not worried about, he's her brother. And thankfully he gives me no trouble when it comes to his love life." I sit up. "See that's the thing I don't understand, he never did all this nonsense when he was four. He played with blocks and and ate mud and rough-housed with his friends. Why is this pre-school class suddenly like Melrose Place? I think it's that teacher, Tilly. She's so wanting for a man all the time, that energy is shooting off of her and making everyone lovesick."

"Christian, I wouldn't worry about it too much. Children have a different concept of love and relationships at this age. They're just playing house."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?!"

He laughs.

"How's Ana?" he asks.

"She's wonderful. Glorious. A goddess..." I'm lost in that vision of her in the shower last night trying to take my mind off the cards with her mouth on my cock. "She's getting bigger by the day. You know, I think I've developed a pregnancy kink."

"Explain that." He puts his pen to his paper.

"I want to fuck her all the time."

"And this is different than usual?"

"Yes and no. I want to fuck her all the time, regardless, but it's really been a new and fun twist on things with her getting so big, so fast with the twins. I've always been really turned on when she's pregnant, but now she ignites me in ways I never could imagine. Her body is so round and womanly and hot. And knowing that I knocked her up twice at once—shit, that does things to a man." I shift to adjust the hardening situation in my pants before Flynn writes about it in his little folder. "And she's a nymphomaniac on top of it all. She can't get enough of me now that she's in her second trimester. Yesterday, I actually woke up with her riding me." God, that was a hot morning. Ana said she felt my morning wood and went for it. I was nearly coming before I even opened my eyes.

"Well, I'm glad you have such an appreciation of your wife's changing body." Appreciation?—more like obsession. "I think it also means you've come full circle. With each pregnancy you've seen motherhood as something to be celebrated as opposed to something to be feared."

"You know, it's funny. We were back at Escala last weekend, for second trimester reasons,..." I raise a brow and he gets my drift. "And I was looking at the Madonna and child paintings that are hanging there. I remembered how I used to stare at them for hours, in almost a trance-like state. Mostly after nightmares when I couldn't sleep. It comforted me on some level to see a mother caring for her child after just dreaming of my own leaving me."

"Go on," he says.

"Anyway, I noticed when I looked at them this time, they didn't give me comfort anymore; they didn't give me anything. They were just pictures and seeing Ana everyday with our children is real. And I think I want to take them down now."

"And why is that?" He leans back in his seat, watching me.

"I don't need them anymore."

I can see a smile start to cross Flynn's face.

"I want to sell them and give the money to help feed children. And I want to replace them with paintings of my family."

"I'd say that's a wonderful idea." He fully grins now.

"We have our appointment this week to find out the sex of the babies," I say.

"And how do you feel?"

"Excited. Nervous. I'm not sure, I just want them to healthy." I look up at him. "I'm going to be a father of four, can you fucking believe that?"

"Sometimes I think to myself I've been a good doctor, but then I realize it's Ana who's been the best therapy."

I smile. Yes, Ana is the best therapy. But, he still accepts the checks.

"I've got a special evening planned for Valentine's Day. She thinks we're just going to dinner, but I have a big surprise."

"I'm sure she'll love whatever you have up your sleeve."

"Well, if all goes according to plan, hopefully I won't be wearing any for long."

Yes, this Valentine's Day I'm planning to make both our dreams come true.

#######

"And I got four more Valentimes today!" Phoebe says, as we sit at the table at dinner. "This one's from Jagger." She holds up a card with a panting puppy dog that says: You're Dog Gone Cute. He called her cute?! How dare he comment on the appearance of my daughter! And what's with all these rapey looking cartoon creatures on the cards these days?

"His name is Jagger?" I ask, gritting my teeth, and she nods. Of course he's a womanizer, he's named after a damn flap-lipped rocker. I've gotta run new background checks. There are too many surprises popping up with these boys. But, I didn't think I had to check the backgrounds of four-year-olds! I think I'm going to talk to Ana about sending Phoebe to an all girl's school next year. Like one where the nearest boy is in another country.

"I have to make them all cards, too!" she says. "And ones for all my friends!"

"Why?"

"Because it's Valentime's Day!"

"Well, I wouldn't hold that card if I were you. I think I saw a big cooty crawling on it."

She immediately drops it and Ana gives me a kick in the shin under the table.

"Are you making these cards, too?" I ask Teddy, but he doesn't respond.

I look over and notice that Teddy is picking over his dinner. He's got a grimace on his face and I see his shirt doesn't have a speck of dirt on it. That's unusual. He wasn't outside this afternoon playing? Plus, he loves macaroni and cheese, just like his dad, and he's barely touched it. I hope he's not sick.

"Teddy, how was your day at school?" I ask, trying to engage him in conversation.

"Fine," he says, but fine doesn't sound so fine.

Ana gives me a look and I know she notices his mood, too. Teddy's never like this. He's always goofy and upbeat. He never broods like me.

"Phoebe, let's go start on your Valentine making in your room," Ana says, obviously making an excuse to give me some alone time with our son.

"Yay! I know all the glitters I want!" Phoebe says, hopping off her chair.

"Don't give your special glitters to any of those boys!" I shout out, but she's giggling and running to the stairs, with Ana right behind.

"Everything okay?" I ask Teddy. He nods, but just keeps moving his food around with a fork. "Come on Sport, talk to me. Did something happen at school?"

He shrugs. I know that shrug. I used to do it myself when I didn't want to commit to a yes, but didn't want to lie. It was usually when I got into a brawl and was sent to the principal's office. I bet he got in trouble and doesn't want me to know.

"You know, if anything's wrong, you can tell me. I promise I won't be mad." I'm more upset that he's not eating his macaroni and he'll go to bed hungry.

"Dad..." He looks up and I'm ready for him to tell me that he punched his friend Fritzy Newton in the shoulder and had to write standards at his recess. I wouldn't really blame him; that kid's a disgrace. "Did you ever feel funny when you looked at a girl?"

Oh my god. What is he asking me?

"Funny, how?" I gulp and decide to take a sip of my water so at least my next gulp will be a productive one. I don't think I'm ready to have this conversation.

"It's not me. It's a friend." He cuts his eyes away. Yeah, that old story. Like I just so happened to be in the neighborhood when I walked into Clayton's. "He—my friend," he clarifies. "He says whenever he sees this girl he gets all fuzzy in his head and his belly feels weird and he can't talk right and he thinks maybe he's allergic to her and he might have to go to the doctor but he doesn't want a shot."

I clear my throat. "Um, well I'm not a doctor..." You can do this, Grey. "...But, from the symptoms you listed, I don't think he's suffering from an allergy."

"He's not?"

"Does it feel... sort of like butterflies in his belly?"

He nods.

"And he just wants to keep staring at this girl, because she's really pretty?"

He nods again.

"And he makes sure he combs his hair right and keeps his clothes clean so maybe she'll notice and say he looks nice and he can talk to her and hear her laugh?"

He nods again. "Yeah, that's it!"

"Well, good news. Nobody has to get a shot. I think that your friend... likes this girl." Funny, Flynn diagnosed me the same way.

"But, he can't 'cause girls are gross," he says, but it's more of a question than a statement. Like he's wrestling with the answer he's believed firmly all of his six long years.

"They're not all gross. I don't think your mother is gross. In fact..." I lean in to whisper as if it's a secret among men. "I like her, a lot."

"But she's a mommy, that's different!"

"She wasn't always a mommy. She was once a girl I saw and I felt all those things... and I knew I wanted to hold her hand." I wanted to do a lot of other things as well, but we'll stick with hand holding for this story.

"Did you make her a Valentine to tell her you liked her?" he asks.

"Yes..." Though, we were married and pregnant with him by the time our first Valentine's Day rolled along. "You know what girls really like?"

He shakes his head.

"Hearts and flowers," I say. "You always want to be a guy who gives a girl that."

"I don't got any monies for flowers and things," he looks up. "I mean my friend doesn't."

"You know, it's okay if you like someone."

"It is?" He scrunches his nose, all shy.

I nod.

"Yeah, maybe I might kinda like someone, too," he says and I'm surprised at how nice it feels that my son is confiding this in me.

"Do you want to tell me who she is?"

He shakes his head all shy. He looks lost, bewildered, excited and all around a mess. He has the same look I had that first time I felt love. But, I was twenty-seven and I married her. How the hell do you deal with it at six?

"Is she in your class?"

He twists his lips and then nods. "How do you tell a girl you don't think she's creepy and gross?" he asks.

"Well, I wouldn't use those words, for one..." Hell, how do you tell a girl you like her without making her sign an NDA? That's a tough one. "Why don't you make her a valentine?"

"I don't know how. Will you help me?"

"Of course." Shit. How do I make a valentine? I vaguely remember Grace tearing off those little cards and making me pass them out. I don't even think I licked my own envelopes, let alone do any arts and crafts. I do remember Elliot used to throw conversation hearts at my head. He'd laugh and tell me he was delivering the mail. "Tell you what, let's make a man's afternoon of it tomorrow. You can help me pick out your mom and sister's gifts, too."

"Thanks Dad!" He gets up to hug me.

"Anything, Champ."

"And Daddy, will you not tell Mommy?" he asks as he pulls away.

"You know I don't like keeping secrets from your mother."

"Please, Daddy. I don't want her to be all kiss-kiss goofy."

"Kiss-kiss goofy, huh?"

He shakes his head and wipes his face, as if he's imagining her covering him with kisses and thoroughly embarrassing him with questions about his newfound playground love.

"Don't tell nobody, please!" he says.

"Okay, for now it's our little secret." I look down at his dinner. "But, only if you finish all that macaroni on your plate."

He goes back to his seat and scarfs it down and his eating is a comfort to me.

I sit back in my chair. Shit, I better do my research for tomorrow. And when it comes to this Valentine's Day stuff, I'm not taking any chances. I'm going to consult an expert.

#######

"First you gotta lay out all your papers and your glitters so you know what you gots to work with," Phoebe says, all professional-like, pushing up her sweater sleeves, as we sit at the table in her room and she demonstrates how to make, as she puts it—"the most fanciest cards with the hearts for Valentime's Day." I'm not telling her about my research for Teddy, so we're making a special one for Ana.

She lays out an array of colored construction paper, doilies, and stickers on one side and about forty-seven little canisters of glitter on the other, most of them varying degrees of pink. She has feathers and bows and markers in more colors than God ever intended, but Crayola took to the bank. Martha Stewart's got nothing on Phoebe Grey. In fact, she may be calling because she wants her craft table back.

"Then you pick your colors," she says.

"Any advice?"

"You gotta feel the colors in your heart because it's a love card." She stretches out the word love so far, you'd think it was bubblegum.

"Good idea." Although, I'm rather annoyed thinking she's feeling colors in her heart for all these boys. I'm going to have to go over her cards before she hands them out. I don't want any overzealous glittering on her part to give any little cupids or their arrows any ideas.

Chester's sitting across from me dressed in a fuzzy magenta sweater, no pants and a side-cocked beret. He looks like he should be on the Seine painting a scene and hawking it off to unwitting tourists. Instead, he's trying to steal a piece of the macaroni she uses for decoration—and I think she swiped before Gail made dinner tonight—but his nose keeps getting caught in the tube.

"Did you dye his hair pink on top?" I ask, noticing his swirl puffing out on the right side from under his beret.

"Yeah. For Valentimes Day."

I feel for Chester. He looks like he either had his head dipped in strawberry ice cream or he's about to host the Hunger Games.

"Chester has a girlfriend," she says. "He's gotta look handsome like. So when they go on their Valentime's date she'll think he's the cutest."

"Chester's going on a date? With who?" This is news to me. Since when did he start dating?

"Henrietta, my friend Lucy's mini pig."

"Swine and ham-ster, huh?" She nods. There's a pair.

"She just broke up with a dirty rat to be with him."

"What did he do that was so dirty?"

She shrugs. "He was just a rat who liked to play in mud and he'd get Henrietta dirty when he crawled on her and Lucy'd have to wash her too much."

I shake my head. Even the preschool animals are love crazy. Well, we know Chester's clean. He spends enough time relaxing in that jacuzzi tub made for him in her doll house.

"Where's Chester taking this Henrietta?" I ask.

"He's gonna have a romantical dinner for her by Barbie's pool." She scrunches her nose. "But, he doesn't got any monies, so Chester asked me to ask you if you would buy Henrietta some food and a girlfriend present and maybe sunflowers."

"I have to buy romantic gifts for a pig that's supposed to be from a hamster so he can impress her?"

She nods. Jesus, the man who never did hearts and flowers is making and buying everyone and their hamster Valentine's gifts this year.

"I'll see what I can find," I say.

"Thank you, Daddy!" She hugs me and of course she has me wrapped around all her little fingers, toes and her princess tiara.

Chester, the unappreciative rodent he is, flashes his teeth when he thinks my hands are too close to his dried noodle.

Back to the task at hand, I look out over the choices of paper and pick a red one. Thinking of Ana and her boobs and belly bouncing on top of me later tonight definitely has me feeling that color in my heart and other places where my blood pumps.

"Now you gotta cut it into a heart," she says.

"Okay." I get out the scissors and freestyle it, but it comes out looking less like a heart and more like a red lemon.

"No, that's not a heart. You gotta cut more of a slit middle at the top." She points and I cut something in the middle, but it still doesn't look like a heart. It looks like an alligator took a bite out of the red lemon.

"You probably shoulda drawed it first," she says.

"Yeah, you're right." I look at it and shrug.

"But, we can make it good with the over things."

"What are the over things?"

"Decor-a-moritations."

What the heck?

"Decorations?" I ask.

She nods.

"Put on the lacy thing," Phoebe says, handing me a doily that's twice as big as my lemon. Oh well, it'll cover it up, so I go with it and glue it on. "The lacy thing makes it more married, too."

"Don't use any lacy things on yours to those boys!" I say, but she's too busy looking at her glitters to listen.

"And then you need the sparkles," she says, grabbing the glue bottle and squirting blobs of it all over my card.

"Hey, that's a lot of glue," I say as Elmer's overtakes my lacy lemon.

"You need a lotta sparkles." Finally she's satisfied with the glue situation and stops. "Maryann told me where sparkles come from."

"Oh yeah, where?" Maryann couldn't tell you where her lunch came from if it was delivered by Domino's.

"Pegasuses poop it out."

"Really?"

She nods, confirming that we're decorating with winged horse shit.

"If you're a purple Pegasus you poop out the purples glitters and if you're a pink one you get pinks," she says.

"Genetics, huh?"

"Yeah." She nods. "And the Blue Fairy collects them in the little jars and brings them into the stores to sell to pay for all of the houses in Fairy Land.

"I didn't know the Blue Fairy was such a capitalist," I say.

"Me, neithers."

Phoebe assesses her supplies and gets out four different shades of pink glitter and like a chef seasoning the special of the night, she shakes them all over the glue until the whole thing is covered, then takes her hand and smushes it down and smears it.

"Spread it around with your hand to make sure it's not all clumped up weird," she says.

This is quite disgusting, but I do as my teacher says and I put my fingers on the glue and make sure the glitter placement is to my liking. "

"What do we do now?" I ask.

"Now you gotta shake off the extra," she says and lifts the card and shakes it all over table. Of course, it's right next to my head, so the glitter flies all over my face and hair. I know I'm going to have pink glitter in parts unknown for weeks.

"Is it done?" I ask.

"No, you gotta write Mommy at the top and sign it: I love you from your Daddy." Actually, Mommy has called me Daddy on occasion, so it's fitting.

I do as she says and after Phoebe covers it with fuzzy monkey and elephant stickers and glues on some feathers, I have my finished product. The monkeys and elephants are fitting, since it looks like the circus threw up on my red lemon.

########

"Kate and Elliot are going to play Romeo and Juliet in the school Valentine's program?" I ask Ana as we're about to climb into bed. She's putting lotion on her hands and rubbing it up and down her arms and between her fingers. The up and down motion is the end of me, as I imagine those fingers wrapped around my cock. I notice her tits are really spilling out of her camisole right now. They're so big and I imagine the bursting forth with milk soon. Damn, I want to fuck them.

"Yeah, Kate volunteered them both." Ana says, moving to the dresser to pick something up. She has to bend over to do it and I can see her juicy, ripe ass undercarriage through the leg of her little shorts. "Here." She hands me a flyer.

"Kupid'z Arrow," I read as I get under the covers. "Come one, come all and join the KIDZ in celebrating love through the ages." I look up. "Is this the play?"

"Yeah."

Oh god.

"And what do we have to do?" I can only imagine me playing some knight in shining armor with a stuffed bra boosted Tilly as my lady in waiting. Well she's no lady and if that's her plan, she'll be waiting forever.

"Punch and cookies," Ana says.

"Is that a new Disney couple?"

She laughs. "No, refreshments."

"Refreshments? As in we're serving the punch and cookies?"

She nods.

"That's it?"

She nods again.

"Let me get this straight, the school is doing a production about love and romance all through history for Valentine's Day, where people are coupled up, and Tilly hasn't even tried to swindle me into a role?" This seems too good to be true.

"I told them you'd probably want to skip this one, since you've been so active in the past holiday productions."

"And they actually listened?" Maybe Tilly finally got the hint when she stuck out her neck and asked me how she smelled last week and I told her the truth—like sweat.

"Well, I can't see Elliot being a Shakespearean actor." I can't see Elliot being a Dr. Seussian actor, let alone the Bard.

"It's Shakespeare for school kids." True, he does have the mind of a child. Maybe, it'll translate well.

Ana crawls into bed and as she props herself up with her pillows, her own pillows jiggle.

"Can I sneak off with you to the janitor's closet after the punch and cookies are served?" I ask, brushing her heaving breasts with my fingers. I'd like some punch and cookies of my own. Actually, I'll take milk with mine.

"You want to have your way with me at the school?" she asks, feigning outrage, but heaves her chest forward.

"I want to have my way everywhere in every way with you," I say, bringing my mouth to her neck and then to her chest.

"What did you and Teddy talk about?" she asks.

Oh shit, I'm sworn to secrecy. I don't want to lie...

"He just had a tough day at school," I say, and it's the truth. I continue my oral travels, pulling the strap to her camisole down and freeing her left breast.

"What happened?"

"Nothing bad. He just needed his father," I look up to her, her nipple brushing against my mouth.

"There's something your not telling me."

I can never keep anything from Ana. Those eyes always look right through me.

"It's nothing major. Just man talk." I suck on her nipple.

She scrunches and squints at me, and I know she knows there's more to the story, but she doesn't press it. And I think my attention on her hardening peak is distracting her.

"I love that, you know," she says.

"What? My mouth on your nipple?" I take it between my teeth and she groans.

"Well, that...is wonderful," she shivers with pleasure. "But, I meant I love that when he needs you, you're there for him."

"Of course I'm there for him when he needs me. For all my kids." I brush her belly and just feeling her motherly swell ignites me. "But, I also like to be there for Mommy when she needs me." I move my hand down the curve of her bump to the edge of her satin shorts and reach inside. "Do you need me, Mommy?" I stroke her.

"Yes," she bucks, as my hand moves inside her panties.

"Tell me," I whisper in her ear as I dip my fingers into her. She's already so wet. "What does Mommy need?"

"I need you," she says, tilting her chin up and moaning. "Mommy needs Daddy to fuck her—hard!"

"We aim to please, Mrs. Grey."

I can't wait for Valentine's Night.