“Because you’re fourteen. That’s why. I don’t need another reason.”

Riley resisted mouthing the next words as they came out of the twins’ mouths: “But Dad…”

“‘But Dad’ nothing. You are not going to the fireworks by yourselves.” He saw the glance that was exchanged between them and folded his arms, waiting to see what they had as Plan B. They were like that; they always had a Plan B.

“It’s not by ourselves, Dad,” Kate said, in the overly exasperated tone that only teenagers managed to do well. “Everyone’s going. You’re the only one who hasn’t said yes yet.”

Good cop, bad cop. Kate playing the petulant teenager so that Annie could chime in with the reasonable – “Or maybe you could come, Dad. Then there’d be a responsible adult and everything.”

Translation: none of the other parents were willing to give up their Fourth of July to chaperone a bunch of kids.

“Define ‘everyone,’” Riley said.

“Well,” Kate said, “Josh, of course…”

A given – Josh had been their constant companion since they were four years old.

“Beth and Ben,” Annie chimed in, naming the other two members of the current group.

“And Charlie, Annie’s new boyfriend,” Kate said, ignoring Annie’s annoyed look.

Excuse me? Riley turned to Annie. “Did she just say 'boyfriend'? Since when do you have a boyfriend? I don't think you're old enough to-”

Given that he had no idea what was old enough -- he figured thirty was just wishful thinking -- it was probably a good thing that Annie cut him off with: “Aunt Sarah mentioned you hadn’t been to the fireworks in a long time and you might want to come along.”

“She did, huh?” Riley picked up the phone and dialed the number. “Aunt Sarah said that because she knew there was no way-”

“So they already got to you,” Sarah Miller said, having answered the phone midway through his sentence. “Graham was supposed to call you.”

Riley could hear her throw something reasonably heavy across the room. He figured it made contact when he heard Graham’s “Ow!”

“Well, Graham forgot.” Riley glared at his daughters as they pouted.

“Oh, Riley – please?” Sarah asked. “Pretty please with chocolate sprinkles on top? You know Josh won’t go if Kate and Annie don’t. And none of the other mothers can do it.”

He ignored the ‘other mother’ comment, as he had finally learned to do after years of protest. “Gee. Wonder how the girls got this whole manipulative thing so down pat…”

“I swear I wouldn’t ask but Mitch is at camp and Graham’s sister said she’d take the baby for a few days and we haven’t had a chance to be alone like this since she was born.”

“Sam is three years old,” Riley said, “not exactly a baby. And I distinctly remember taking all three of your kids – Josh, Mitch and Sam – to the beach for an entire week last summer so that you and Graham could be alone. You still owe me for that one.”

Riley was greeted with silence on the other end of the line. And from across the counter, with two faces clearly conveying that if he didn’t say he’d go, and therefore they could, their entire existence would come to an end.

He leaned back against the fridge and let out an exaggerated sigh, hiding his smile as Kate and Annie flew at him, hugging him. A chorus of “thank you, Daddy”s came out of their mouths before they ran out of the room giggling and talking about what they were planning to wear.

“O.k., I’ll make you a deal: Josh comes over early so you and Graham can start your romantic day with a picnic on the Esplanade staking out enough space for everyone. We’ll plan on getting there around six.” Watching the Fourth of July fireworks with hundreds of thousands of people was one thing; spending the entire day staking out a spot with six teenagers who had just discovered what hormones were was another entirely.

“You’re on!” Sarah said. “Oh, and you know Ben’s mom?”

“Whoa. Hold on. You distinctly said ‘none of the other mothers’…” He was going to kill her. “Sarah – if this is a set-up, I take back every-”

“Her name is Jean and she’s a total sweetheart,” Sarah said, completely ignoring him. “This way you’ll have something to think about other than six horny teenagers.”

“I have plenty of things to think about," he protested. "And I have books to read, the Boston Pops to listen to… Plenty of things.”

Sarah was not deterred. “Come on – when was the last time you went out on a date, Ri?”

He answered, "I am perfectly happy with the way things are. And I can find my own dates.”

“Then why don’t you?” she asked. When he didn't say anything, she added, "It's been almost nine years."

Eight and a half, to be precise. And anyway, how many times did he have to say this? “Sarah, I’ve loved two women in my life…”

“Yeah, yeah… Sam’s dead and Bippy was gone long before that. You’re like a broken record.”

“Her name was Buffy, and I say it so much because my friends can’t seem to get it through their heads.”

There was a pause before Sarah quietly said, "Sam would have wanted you to move on.”

He snapped, “End of conversation, Sarah.”

Too far. He could hear the hurt in her voice as she said, “We just want you to be happy.”

Then don’t keep trying to fix me up, he resisted saying. He made every effort to soften his tone. “I am happy. Really. You can feel free to worry about other things. Like how to get that husband of yours to actually be romantic for an entire day. See you at six on Tuesday.”

“Why are you dragging me to this again?” Buffy asked.

“Because you live in Boston now, and this is something that Bostonians do,” Dawn said.

“Then how come you haven’t done it in the ten years you’ve lived here?” Eddie asked.

Dawn threw her napkin at him. “Hey – you’re supposed to be on my side. Besides, I’ve never lived in Boston. I live in Cambridge.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled at Buffy. “If you don’t want to, we won’t force you.”

“No, we totally will force you,” Dawn said. “You’ve been here three weeks and you haven’t left your house.”

“I’m unpacking.” Lots of unpacking. Many-many-boxes-of-stakes-worth unpacking.

“For three weeks? You don’t have that much stuff,” Dawn said, looking around at the nearly barren living room in which only one box remained. “Come on. Grab a sweater – it can be cool on the river.” She stood up and tapped her foot. “We’ll wait.”

“O.k., o.k.," Buffy muttered. "I’ll come. But only so that Eddie doesn’t think his sister-in-law-to-be is the immature one in this family.” She ran up the stairs to her bedroom, coming back down a few minutes later with a sweatshirt tied around her waist.

“You’re wearing that?” Dawn asked, disdainfully looking at Buffy’s faded t-shirt and denim shorts.

Buffy looked down. “Why – what’s wrong with this?”

Dawn answered, “Nothing," although she clearly felt otherwise.

So much for the non-superficiality of Harvard grad students. Buffy glared at Dawn, saying,“Are we going or not?”

Eddie jumped up. Despite having hung out with the sisters only twice before Buffy had moved in several weeks before, he’d clearly already realized that things had a tendency to escalate quickly. “Yes. Going.” He grabbed Dawn’s hand and pulled her to the door.

Before the doorbell started ringing, Kate, Annie and Josh laid out the ground rules. At no time was Riley to acknowledge that he was with them unless it involved giving them money. If he and Ben’s mom hit it off, there was to be absolutely no PDA – “public display of affection, Dad; geez…” – especially not within sight of any one of their friends. And under no circumstances was he allowed to wear that sweatshirt that he had had since college.

What the hell was wrong with that sweatshirt?

“So that means I don’t have to answer the door, right?” he asked as the doorbell rang. “Because then I would actually have to acknowledge that I’m your father.”

“That is so lame,” Kate said with an eye roll.

“Dad – we’re making sandwiches," Annie added. "You’re the only one who could possibly answer it.”

Riley looked at Josh who just shrugged. Like father, like son, Riley thought as he went to get the door. Neither actually spoke when a shrug would do.

“Who are you?” Riley asked the very tall, very old – like seventeen old – boy who was standing in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Charlie, sir.”

Of course. Stupid question given that Riley already knew all the other kids who were coming. “How old are you?” he asked the boy, fully recognizing that this was why he wasn’t allowed to associate with his daughters in front of their friends.

“Fifteen. I swear. You can call my mom.”

Riley folded his arms. Clearly the kid had gotten the question before, poor guy. Too bad. “Who are the flowers for?”

“Mrs. Finn,” said Charlie. He quickly added, “I mean Annie’s grandmother, not her mom. Um, because I, um... I know that, um...”

Right. Different Mrs. Finn – mom, not wife. Which wouldn’t even have crossed Riley’s mind if it hadn’t been for the whole disclaimer going on.

Of course, now that it had crossed his mind, well... It brought back the bad. The major, major bad. It had been a while since just hearing the words ‘Mrs. Finn’ had done that. He’d thought he’d gotten over that a long time ago.

He supposed if the sight of red gloves – like the ones Sam had left on the kitchen counter the last time he saw her – still got to him, it wasn’t too surprising that the occasional ‘Mrs. Finn’ would have the same effect.

“Excuse me – Riley?” said a woman’s voice.

Riley mentally shook his head clear. A woman and another boy had appeared next to an uncomfortable looking Charlie.

“Sorry,” Riley said to Charlie. “I can take those. Thank you.” He took the flowers and stepped back so that they could all come in. “You must be Jean. Hi, Ben.”

“Hi, Mr. Finn,” Ben said. “Are Kate and Annie here?”

“They’re in the kitchen with Josh.”

“Hey, Charlie,” Ben said. “Come on. I know the way.” He led Charlie to the kitchen.

Riley turned to Jean. “So, you spend much time as a chaperone?”

“More than Ben would like. I’m surprised we’ve never met, but you’ve probably seen my ex-husband around.”

“I’ve seen him at some of the games. You’re not a big fan of high school sports?”

“Not a big fan of Catholic schools. Or my ex-husband.”

Riley smiled. “Yeah, I guess that gets complicated.” He led the way to the kitchen where the five kids were now raiding the cabinets for chips and cookies. “Hey – leave something for Jack.”

Of Riley and Sam’s four kids – the fourth being Liam, who was on a Florida fishing trip – Jack was the youngest, but also the most mature. Or maybe Riley was just feeling that way today because Jack had chosen to stay home with his grandmother and watch the fireworks from the roof deck rather than fighting the crowds. On the roof deck with the radio broadcast of the Pops as accompaniment – a much more civilized way to see the fireworks as far as Riley was concerned.

“Jack’s only nine. He doesn’t eat that much,” said Annie.

“Dad! Doorbell!” Kate yelled.

Twenty minutes later, they were joining the throngs of people walking toward the Esplanade, Riley and Jean trailing behind the group of kids. Riley readjusted the huge backpack that was loaded with sandwiches, chips, and more bottles of water and soda than he could count. Hiking through Europe had taken less packing.

He turned to Jean, saying her name at the same time she said, “Riley…”

She laughed. “You first.”

Riley looked at her, knowing he shouldn’t say what he was about to say. Knowing that it was the kind of thing that got him in trouble with his kids. Knowing, also, that it was the kind of thing that sounded completely obnoxious, and yet... “Sarah thinks I need to start dating again. I don’t. I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

An amused – and slightly irritated – smile crossed Jean’s face. “It’s nice you think I’d be interested in dating you, but since you’re not a woman, you really don’t do it for me.”

Riley stopped for a second, earning him a nasty remark from the person behind him. He barked out a laugh. Excellent. “Didn’t mention that to Sarah, did you?”

“No, and I can’t believe that I just said that to you,” Jean said, turning bright pink. “My ex-husband’s the only person in the world who knows that. Except, I guess, you.”

“I’m honored.”

“Don’t be,” she snapped. “It just came out because you were so damn smug.”

Riley started to defend himself and then stopped because, well, yeah; that was deserved.

She turned even brighter pink. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just said that, either. I really usually don’t talk much. Mostly because I tend to put my foot in my mouth, as you’ve just seen.”

“I think we should tell Sarah that we fell madly in love at first sight so that she’ll never fix either one of us up again,” he said, laughing as the came within sight of Graham and Sarah – Graham and Sarah who were looking like newlyweds as they made out under a tree by the river.

Riley cleared his throat as they approached. Not in time, however.

“Dad, that is so gross,” Josh said. “You guys are, like, forty.”

“Thirty-nine,” Graham said. “Uncle Riley’s forty.” He pointed to a lime green blanket surrounded by plastic pink flamingos. “That’s for the kids.”

“Uncle Graham – that is so embarrassing,” Annie said.

“You want embarrassing?” Graham said, giving Sarah a wicked look. “We can show you embarrassing.” He leaned in for another kiss, sending the teenagers running the fifty feet to the other blanket.

Riley sat down and reached into a container filled with strawberries. “No way – I didn’t know those things were portable,” he said, seeing a fondue pot filled with melted chocolate. He dipped a strawberry in.

Sarah blew out the Sterno flame underneath the chocolate. “Turns out Graham remembers how to be romantic.” She smiled. “Champagne?” she asked, offering some to Riley and Jean.

Graham started closing containers and packing them away. “Hate to run, but we’ve got just enough time for a carriage ride before our dinner reservations.” He stood up and held out his hand to Sarah, pulling her up. “So, Ri – you o.k. if Josh spends the night at your place?”

“If you leave the strawberries and chocolate.” Damn good idea, that whole fondue thing.

Sarah scraped the chocolate out of the fondue pot and poured it over the strawberries. “Less for you to carry home,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful man. May your evening be filled with beautiful fireworks.”

“Well, it’s nice someone’s having a romantic night,” Jean said after they left.

Riley pulled a pack of cards out of his pocket. “A deck of cards, chocolate covered strawberries, and a soft, summer breeze coming off the river – what could be better?”

Jean picked up the cards and started to shuffle. “Spending the evening with your soul-mate?”

Yeah, right. “Blasphemy. We’ll have none of that kind of talk. Deal the cards, woman. I’ll play just about anything.”

Riley threw down his cards. “Gin.” The sun was starting to go down, the strawberries were long since gone, and, according to the radio on the next blanket over, Bono still hadn’t found what he was looking for, not even after all these years.

“Uh-oh,” Jean said, glancing up.

He followed her glance to see Annie coming towards him with a sweet smile on her face. They always sent Annie when they wanted something big.

“Dad – did you bring any money?”

“We brought the entire contents of our kitchen. What could you possibly want that would require money?”

She kneeled down and put her arms around him. “Well, we were thinking…”

Never good when they started thinking.

“…Don’t you think that everything would be absolutely perfect if we all had slushies right now?”

Where his kids had developed their thing for slushies he had no idea. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Please, Dad. Everything is so great, but it would be even greater if we had-”

“Slushies,” he said, finishing her sentence. “For everyone?”

“Charlie and I will help you get them,” she said, her voice dripping with honey. “The store’s right across Storrow Drive. We’ll be back way before the fireworks start.”

He looked over to the blanket where the rest of the kids were. As soon as they saw him look over, they all dropped to their knees, hands clasped together in front of them and eyes pleading.

“I thought Liam was the one in Drama,” Riley muttered as he stood up.

Annie jumped up and clapped. The other kids cheered and collapsed into a pile on their blanket.

“Such a softie,” Jean said, smiling. “Raspberry please.”

As Charlie made his way across the patchwork of blankets on the green, Riley asked Annie, “So where did this Charlie person come from? And who said it was o.k. for you to have a boyfriend?”

Annie hit him in the shoulder. “Shhhh, Daddy. He’s on the boys’ lacrosse team. He just moved here this spring. O.k.?”

“O.k., o.k.,” he said. “Am I allowed to be related to you now? Considering I’m about to spend my hard earned money on all your friends…”

“I suppose so,” she said, clearly wishing he would do otherwise.

Riley was surprised when she stood up on her tiptoes and hugged him.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered in his ear.

God, he loved his kids. He had screwed up so many things in his life, but not his kids. Riley looked up at the sky. Thanks, Sam, wherever you are, for watching over us. You’d be so proud of what they’ve become.

“Come on, Daddy,” she said, running ahead to meet Charlie.

Yeah. “Coming.”