Page 11 of From the Ground Up
“Um… because it was too big? And besides, it’s way cuter this way. I cut the bottom hem so it’s shorter,” she tells us as she points to her belly, which we can only assume means she shows part of her stomach when she’s wearing it. “And if I turn my shoulder just right, it falls off the side.” She goes on to explain like that’s a completely normal and logical explanation. To her credit, she does a fabulous job with clothes. She has a sense for it and is always making her own creations. I would be shocked if she didn’t go into something with fashion when she graduates from high school.
Barrett’s eyes widen, and eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “Not a chance,” he says and starts to turn around as if the discussion is settled because, apparently, he’s never met Maggie, and forgot that she’s stubborn and determined.
“What? Why?”
He stops in his tracks, turns back around, and stares right at her. “Why? You wanna know why? Want me to get Grady out here to answer that question too?” he asks her, to which she shakes her head adamantly that she, in fact, does not want her big brother, who is quite overprotective, to be brought in the conversation.
“Right then. Not. A. Chance. You’re fifteen. Need more reason?”
“Dad, don’t be…”
He cuts her off before she can dig herself into a deeper hole. “Nope. End of discussion. First of all, it’s against school policy, thank the Lord above for that,” he says as he looks to the heavens, and I know, without a doubt, he is truly thanking God for blessing us with a strict school dress code policy. “Second of all, you don’t need to be searching for reasons for boys to notice you. You’re beautiful enough as it is when you’re fully covered.”
“But…” She half-heartedly tries to argue her position again.
“I said no. End of discussion.”
“But, Dad, it’s not to get boys to notice me! The shirt is cute!”
“I have no doubt the shirt is cute. I also said no. Besides. School. Policy.” He grins widely, knowing he’s got her there. He’d gladly make her wear a nun costume to school every day if he could, but having the school policy as backup makes his argument that much easier.
She throws her arms up in the air and screeches, “Inconceivable!” before stomping away. It’s possible we may have made her watchThe Princess Brideone too many times.
Barrett roars with laughter at her response, smiles my way, clearly satisfied with the way his end of the discussion went, and turns on his heel, heading back to the kitchen to help Harper with the rest of her spelling words.
By the time eleven o’clock rolls around, I’m exhausted and so is Barrett. We’ve both had long days, and tomorrow will be the same. Tomorrow night, we get to cheer on our boys under the Friday night lights while they work to continue their undefeated season. As we crawl into bed next to one another, alone for once, we take one look at the other and almost weep. It is so rare for us to be able to climb into bed at the same time, and we almost don’t know what to do with ourselves when we do.
Unfortunately, once again, exhaustion and questions over tonight’s dinner topic trumps sexy-time, and soon we’re both lying next to one another in silence, but at least we’re together and touching. Touching means more than sex at this point in our lives. Touching is intimate, and we are desperate for the intimacy. At least I am. I have no idea if Barrett feels the same way or not. We actually have to be able to have a conversation for more than fifteen minutes a day that didn’t center around something involving the kids in order to understand what the other is thinking. I hear Barrett’s breathing start to slow, but there’s so much we need to discuss before I can sleep.
“Babe.”
“Hmmm?”
“You awake?”
“Hmm-mmm.”
“Babe. We need to talk. Wake up. Earlier today. On the phone. What else were you saying?” I lightly push on his shoulder to help him fully wake up.
“Huh?”
“Open your eyes. This afternoon when we talked about what you and Cole discussed. You were talking…”
He interrupts in his sexy sleep voice, eyes still closed, “And you were in your dream world and not listening.”
“Yup. That time. What were you saying?”
He sits up in bed and rests his back against the pillows resting against the headboard. His naked chest looks so inviting for me to rub my hands over as he scrubs his face to help wake himself up, making the muscles in his arms and shoulders bulge and contract.
I raise up also and sit cross-legged on the bed facing him.
“I was trying to tell you we talked to Andy. He’s going to take a few weeks off so he can focus on figuring out where to go from here. He says he can’t trust her now and has no desire to stay with her, or stay in the house she did the nasty in with some other dude, so he’s moving out. The boys are old enough to make a choice about who they want to stay with. They’re pretty pissed at their mom. They want to stay with Andy, so he’s trying to find a place to live for all three of them and all the junk that goes along with it.
“Anyway, he was grateful that we offered him some time off, but he seems surprisingly good. Obviously it messed with his head, and he needs time to work out the logistics, but he’s moved on to the angry phase of grief, and he has plenty of it directed at her. It seems to be working for him.”
I open my mouth to speak but Barrett holds up his hand to stop me. “Don’t even start. He needs to deal with it the way it works for him.”
“You’re sure? If he needs a place to stay, you know he’s welcome here. We don’t necessarily have an extra three bedrooms, but we can make it work.”