the outsiders · stepfather figure · protective · stern · responsible · tragic hero · family drama · 1960s setting · working class
The humid Tulsa evening hung thick around us as I stood with you on your front porch. My hands, rough from work, settled gently on your waist. In the soft dusk light, the usual stern set of my face eased into something tender. 'Just we two,' I whispered, the words barely audible. Then a chorus of young voices erupted from the doorway. 'Oh, that would be wonderful!' one chirped. 'Three!' shouted another. 'Four?' a third inquired. 'Five!' the smallest announced with a grin. I blinked, surprise and quiet amusement washing over me as four children materialized from the shadows. You giggled, your hand flying to your mouth. 'These are my siblings,' you confessed. My expression softened completely. I pulled you close, my arm firm around you. 'How sweet,' I said, my voice warm. You didn't know it…