Page 54 of From the Ground Up
“Yeah? Good,” I grunt.
“Yeah. At least Maggie told me that the whole school is talking about how they’re BF and GF now — her words not mine, obvs.” He laughs at his use of Mag-Speak. “Actually, though, he did tell me that he was taking her out on a date on Saturday night. Don’t tell him I told you that, though. I think he wants to be the one to tell you guys when you get home on Sunday.”
“That’s awesome. I’ll play dumb when we talk to the kids tonight.”
I hear a vehicle pull into the gravel drive and quickly remember that I was only talking to him to keep my mind busy while waiting for Tess.
“Listen, Tess just got back from getting groceries — or slutty hookers — one of the two. Not really sure since she left before I was even awake this morning.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that the slutty hookers thing was another texting blunder?”
“Absolutely.”
He laughs loudly. “Alright. Tell her to text me later. It’s always my favorite part of the day. But I’ll let you go. I don’t need to be on the phone to hear you two greet each other,” he says with a fake, exaggerated gag, as if he hasn’t grown up one single bit. Makes me love him even more. He’s a good brother-in-law but an even better friend.
Even still, I laugh at him. “I would deny it but… yeah. Oh — how’s Harps sleeping?”
“Good. Surprisingly enough. Two nights ago she woke up a couple times, but last night she didn’t at all.”
“Awesome. Man, if she was out of the habit of waking up in the middle of the night when we got back home, I’d owe you. Big time.”
“Working on it. The little twerp.” He chuckles. He loves Harper like his own baby girl, so I know his words are teasing.
“Thanks again for staying with them. It means a lot.”
“Are you guys… I mean, is it helping?”
“It is. I don’t think either of us knew how badly we needed time away.”
“I get it. I’d rather see you two have that time together.”
“Thanks, man. Tell the kids we love them and we’ll call tonight.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Don’t call tonight. I promised the kids we’d meet Cole halfway for pizza. There’s this little parlor that is going under that contacted me a few weeks ago. Thought we’d do a little drive-by eating and see what’s up with it. Lily’s meeting us, too.”
Lily is James’ daughter. James’ wife, Nicole, had a bit (or a lot) of a breakdown when Lily was just three years old. She took off, never to be heard from again from anyone. Lily is the light of James’ life, since it was always just the two of them. He never remarried. We never pushed it; he dated a few ladies here and there, but his main focus was always Lily.
“That’s great. Alright, so we’ll talk tomorrow. Later.”
“Later,” he says before he hangs up.
I put my phone down on the coffee table and walk over to the front door. I peek out to see if it looks like Tess has enough bags that she needs my help or if it’s just a couple.
“Hey, pretty girl!” I shout out to my bride as I step out on the front porch.
“Hey, babe!”
“Are the slutty hookers coming in their own car?”
“Yep! I told them they’d need to have their own way out of here when we were done with them, so they couldn’t ride with me.” She grins cheekily at me then reaches into the back seat and grabs what looks like three bags of groceries before shutting the door with her hip. Since it seems that’s all there is, I let her get it, knowing she’ll wave me off anyway.
“Nice,” I say with a smile as she gets closer. She’s wearing one of my old plaid flannel shirts. And by old, I think it might have been around in the early 90s. It’s rolled up at the sleeves and hangs low on her body. I might have to spank her for not wearing a coat. Her long legs are covered by another pair of skinny jeans that I’m pretty sure were somehow made for her body. With a couple of tattered holes strategically placed, they’re perfectly distressed, as I’ve heard Maggie call it on more than one occasion, (a little shoulder pat for my fatherly listening skills on that one). Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, her natural curl making it messy whether she wants it to be or not.
But her smile aimed at me is what has my gut clenching. It’s an infectious smile, one that our children all inherited from her. It’s always been infectious. As I got older, I recognized this about her. I remember it lighting up a room, even before we became awe. It always pulls me in, it always pulls everyone in. Over time, I also came to realize that it isn’t only her smile that draws everyone to her, it’s her entire demeanor. She has always been happy, even in times that she probably didn’t need or want to be. I asked her once if it was exhausting to always be the one to cheer others up. She told me it’s more exhausting to complain and be unhappy than it is to just allow the goodness of life to soak in. Looking at her happy smile now, even after getting up early, grocery shopping with the slutty hookers, and driving home in the snow, all evidence points to that being truth. She’s happy. Genuinely happy.
I lean down and take the bags from her hands and walk back into the cabin. I place them down on the counter in the kitchen then turn and wrap my arms around her. I dip my face close and kiss my spot, because starting a day without it just plain sucks. “Morning, babe.”
“Mmm…” she says.