Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance

Andre picked up the book and gathered his little boy close, ready to teach him some classic poetry.

"Daddy, what's the Mississippi River?” Henry asked, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

Andre smiled. "The Mississippi? That's America's mother river."

Henry shot a puzzled glance at his mom.

Mia laughed. “It's your dad's mother river, but not mine. The Mississippi is a big, beautiful river-long, wide, and sparkling."

"Mommy, are there fish to eat in the river?" Henry wondered aloud.

That made Mia sit up cross-legged on the bed. "Honey, have I ever eaten Mississippi River fish?"

Henry scrambled up onto Andre's chest. “Daddy, I haven't had it either.”

Andre let out a patient sigh. "Let's read the poem first. When I get some time, I'll take you both to see for yourselves."

course, Henry never did get through the poem—he just stuck his little bottom in the air and

of making it back to their own room, they

answered, yawning so hard Mia could almost hear it through the line. "Mia, did your

"Nope. Yours?”

enough to find a tutor, but one for a two-year-old? That's a whole other story." Mia glanced into the living room, watching Henry tear around with boundless energy. Wherever he went— even

bird!" Henry

called him "Grampy." He said it was their own special name, and clever little Henry would

hurried outside. "Let's

a dragonfly. You know, when dragonflies fly low, it means it's about to

blinked. “Grampy,

gray-it was supposed to be the rainy season, but Havenbrook had barely seen any rain this year. People were

his sons, Andre, if this dry

the markets—they're never

"Bruce,