Chapter Eighteen
Tristan’s Father’s Day started with the perfect combination of warm cuddles and a scrumptious breakfast in bed courtesy of Nicole, along with her two hairy accomplices, Cookie and Rex. The gourmet meal consisted of a bruised apple, a piece of plain whole wheat bread, and a warm bottle of spring water, served on the child’s tea party tray.
“Thank you, Niblet. It’s delicious. You’re such a good cook,” he gushed, savoring every morsel. While Nicole sat high on the stack of pillows against his back in order to style Tristan’s hair with her dolly’s brush, the pups curled up on the end of the bed, warming their master’s feet.
Life is good.
Seemed like yesterday when this angel was small enough to fit in his two big hands with some room to spare. The bittersweet time would come one day when she’ll be fixing him more advanced dishes, like pancakes and bacon, which’d mean she’s growing up and he’d miss the little things, like this.
Stay little, he wished, sipping the water like fine wine.
Yes, life is certainly good. Better than he ever imagined it could be when he first arrived in this little speck of a town.
Who would’ve thought so much could change in the course of a season? No sense questioning his blessings—just count them and let all the affection bestowed upon him seep into every cell.
Although he tried putting the thought out of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder what Joy was doing this morning with her boys. The triple-cherry on top of this sprinkle-loaded, heavily frosted layer cake of love would’ve been if they were here to share this magical morning. Maybe next year, if everything went according to Tristan’s grand slam plan.
The cell phone rang, breaking the sentimental spell, and Nicole grabbed it off the nightstand. “Here ya go, Daddy.”
It was Joy calling to say she and the boys just left Lorraine’s place and would be over in a few minutes to pick him and Nicole up in the Green Machine, en route to the Scenic View Fire Department for another family-friendly barbecue.
With Victor out of the picture and the unexpected encouragement from Sophia, Joy’s commitment to keep her boys and Tristan apart dwindled into the ether, never to be mentioned again.
When the van pulled up, the side door slid open for Nicole to climb inside and take her usual booster seat. Having only seen his house during Joy’s drive-bys, the boys peeked out with unbridled curiosity and begged for a tour behind the new picket fence Tristan installed to separate his yard from the one next door.
Even though he gave Joy the okay to move in asap, she preferred to preserve the surprise for the boys’ sake after all the trouble Tristan went through to make it perfect, which included the final touches still in progress. The four-wall murals he sketched in each of the boys’ rooms—a superhero city for Mason and a jungle-theme for Owen—took longer than he’d planned. And the furniture wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the first week of July.
Tristan shooed the boys into the back of the van and slammed the door before hopping into the passenger seat.
“Happy Father’s Day,” Joy whispered under the overpowering giggles roiling in the backseat. She slipped a sealed envelope into his lap and stepped on the gas. “Read it later.”
This was one envelope Tristan looked forward to opening. He tapped it anxiously against his knee then stuck it in the sun visor for safekeeping.
With the fire department parking lot roped off, Joy found an empty spot next door behind the post office, which was empty on Sunday.
As they piled out of the van, Tristan noticed Joy didn’t come with the usual lunchbox for her pescetarian meal plan. “Traveling light today?”
She shrugged. “I feel like going with the flow for a change.” Going with the flow included rubbing down three kids with a thick layer of zinc sunblock from head to toe then dousing them with organic bug spray.
“Don’t worry. Nick’s gotcha covered. He told me he added veggie burgers to the menu.”
“He didn’t have to do that just for me.” Joy glanced in the driver’s side mirror as she applied sunblock to her face, then signaled for Tristan to lean down so she could slather him too.
“Apparently you’re not the only one in Scenic View interested in a meat-alternative.” He closed his eyes and let her coat his cheeks, nose, and forehead with thick white goop, enjoying her TLC. Even though they spoke every day and went on a date Friday night, he missed the daily routine of being with her. “I could kiss you right now,” he whispered between his teeth.
Pink blossomed in her white-tinted cheeks as she smiled. “Me too. But not in front of the kids.”
Instead of reaching for her hand as he was inclined to do, they walked hand-in-hand like a human train—Mason, Joy, Owen, Tristan, and Nicole.
From a spacious table in the shade furthest from the bandstand, Sophia waved to their little gang. “Over here,” she shouted above the music.
Joy’s boys broke free from their mother and raced with lightning-speed to their grandfather, tackling the man’s thighs. Little Nicole tagged along, showing up last yet stealing their thunder by jumping into Bob’s open arms being the lightest one for him to lift.
Seeing three kids who just met less than two weeks ago get along like they’d known each other their whole lives made Tristan’s heart swell. Growing soft in his old age wasn’t part of the plan but if it meant living happily then sign him up.
To boost his testosterone level, he needed to find some men-folk; someone to talk Mets baseball, NASCAR, fishing, anything to help shake this sentimental streak he was on today. But all the guys were teamed up with their kids, and rightly so. So he orbited the buffet with an empty paper plate, foraging for edible items Joy could pick on.
“Gotcha a veggie burger.” Tristan placed the offering in front of her proudly, awaiting her praise.
Joy took one bite and pushed it aside.
“What’s the matter?” He cocked his head. “No good?”
“It’s fine. It’s just…” She slid him a sideways guilt-laden glance. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’m craving red meat. I can go for a real burger right now. With bacon.”
“I’ve got a craving too.” Lily skooched onto the edge of the bench patting her flat belly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick aimed a troublesome glance at the fully loaded hamburger on his wife’s plate.
Lily shrugged. “I could go for guacamole, watermelon, wasabi peas, and root beer.”
“Where’m I gonna get wasabi peas?” Nick frowned, confused.
“Oh, Lily…” Joy’s face brightened. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
Lily glanced at her blank-faced husband, standing there like a clueless lug even after Joy blurted out the news. “Nick’ll be celebrating Father’s Day next year with the rest of these clowns.” She nodded to a group of dads huddled with their broods, prepping for an afternoon of Father and Offspring Relay Races, known as the F-Off for short by the moms who got a chance to kick back for some R&R in the shade for a change.
“Hell, I’m celebrating this year,” Nick whooped with a smile so big his face might crack. “Why didn’t you tell me, sugar?”
Lily giggled. “I just did.”
Their mini-ruckus drew the attention of the rest of the partiers, traveling the grapevine in nanoseconds all the way to Chief Maresca who pulled out the bullhorn and congratulated Nick and Lily on the spot. Then the band kicked into a rendition of Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da that would make the Beatles proud.
Nick tugged Lily by the elbow and escorted his reluctant bride to the flattened grass designated as the dance floor. Nicole hopped off the bench and ran toward her uncle and aunt where the overjoyed couple swept the child into the circle of their loving arms, leaving no doubt in Tristan’s mind they’d be perfect for parenthood.
“Keep an eye on Nicole for me, will ya, fellas?” Tristan said to Joy’s boys as he nodded toward the dance floor.
Although the initial meeting with Mason and Owen was standoffish, it wasn’t dramatic or traumatic as their over-protective mother anticipated. After a few hours at the batting cage, plus a couple of ice cream cones, they seemed to like their mom’s new friend as much as Joy. Still for her sake, Tristan dialed down the public displays of affection around the kids and focused on being a buddy rather than a boyfriend.
“Sure, T,” the boys sang in unison, adopting the nickname Uncle Nick dubbed Tristan, then chased after the little girl.
Nick and Lily joined hands with the three tykes, making a ring that grew as more bodies made their way to the dance floor.
When no one was looking, Joy wrapped her arms around Tristan’s neck and tugged him nose-to-nose, planting a kiss on his lips, nothing to sloppy with her folks sitting right next to them. “Happy Father’s Day.”
After tons of fun in the broiling sun, and a few reapplications of sunblock, Tristan drove the Green Machine back to his place, with Joy and three exhausted kids.
****
Tristan parked in his driveway and cut the engine. “You’re not leaving yet, are ya?”
“It’s still early enough. I think we can stay for a cup of coffee.” Joy smiled with eyes glimmering in the orange glow of the sinking sun. “They’ve been begging to see the inside of your house. Especially whatever you’ve got hidden back there.” She nodded toward the new six-foot tall stockade fence.
Relieved and thrilled by her response, Tristan snatched the envelope Joy’d given him as he slid out of the driver’s seat. “Come on guys,” he sang, waking the kids, rattling their knees. “Lemme show you around.”
The boys grunted, rubbing their tired eyes, but once they realized the invitation they burst to life. They leaped out and raced to the fenced in yard. Tristan lifted his sleepy girl, carrying her until she got a second wind and wriggled from his arms. He lifted the latch so the gate swung open, revealing the massive jungle-gym he’d put up last week.
“Wow.” Joy blinked. “That’s impressive.”
“I know, right? I bet you wanna climb it.”
A mischievous smile tugged her lips and she wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’d rather climb something else.”
While the kids played, running in and out through the back door between the yard and Nicole’s bedroom, Joy followed Tristan to the garage where they chatted about the little things in life as he poked under the hood of the Camaro.
“Finally got the part you needed?”
“Yep.” Tristan aimed the flashlight at the engine. “But I’m thinking I oughta trade it in for a family car.”
“Too bad. It’s a hot set of wheels. Way hotter than the Green Machine. Before you get rid of it, maybe we can make out in the backseat.”
“I like the way you think. But I’ve got a big bed that’s a helluva lot comfier.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Are you feeling frisky?”
“Maybe.” Joy drained her glass of wine in lieu of coffee, revealing a contagious smile.
“Let’s find out for sure.” He slammed the hood then grabbed her hips, pushing her against the fender. Ever since Victor was out of the picture, and her boys were finally in it, Joy was a re-energized, confident version of herself, like when he first brought her home. He liked her like this. And he didn’t want to let her go.
Bowing her body into him, she pressed soft breasts against him in the most tempting way.
Tristan would’ve made love to her on the spot if not for the rumpus coming from the other side of the wall. “Let’s check on the kids. And get you a refill.”
He led her by the hand, following the noise where the boys pushed racing cars on the hardwood kitchen floor and Nicole rolled her favorite teddy bear in a doll stroller around the controlled chaos.
“Mason. Owen. You’re gonna wreck Tristan’s house,” Joy squealed with panic in her voice.
“Don’t worry about it. The boys’re fine. It’s that sneaky little troublemaker we have to keep an eye on.” Tristan singled out his daughter, eating pellets of dog food from Rex’s blue bowl then pretending to feed it to her stuffed animal when she got caught being naughty.
With her fists clenching the sides of her head like it might explode, Joy groaned. “I don’t want to wear out our welcome after one visit.”
“Stop already, will ya? Don’t be so uptight.” Tristan massaged the back of her neck, nudging her toward the living room to escape the racket and find a little privacy. He plopped on the couch, pulling her with him. “Move in with me, Joy. I know you wanna. I want it too. The kids get along great. Our little families are perfect together.”
“Now you stop.” She sat sideways with her back against the armrest, looking him square in the eyes. “Living together isn’t the answer. Once we move in next door we’ll see each other all the time. For the kids’ sake, let’s just do this the traditional way. Okay?”
“Come on…do the kids really know the difference if we were married or not?”
“I’d know.”
“If it bothers you so much, I know an easy way we can fix that.” He grabbed her left hand and kissed her knuckles, rubbing her finger for a guesstimate, hoping the ring he picked out would fit. Once Nick’s jeweler found the perfect stone, he’d be ready to propose right.
“Do we really want to jump into something we may regret?”
“Here we go again. I love you, Joy. I’m gonna marry you one of these days,” Tristan said, sounding oddly threatening to his own ears.
Thank God she smiled when she said, “Whether I like it not?”
He stroked the stubble on his chin in a mental timeout, long enough to tone down his attitude ten notches. “I’m hoping you’d be willing to marry me ’cause you can’t live without me and wanna be with me forever.”
“I’m not saying I don’t.” Joy’s gaze roved the ceiling as if it held cue cards with the right words. “I get the romanticism of love-at-first-sight and all. And maybe if I hadn’t already been there, done that, with kids, I might rush to the altar with you. But I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”
Boiling blood drained from his head. “Sooo, you’re saying marrying me would be a mistake?” After all they’ve been through in a short amount of time, Tristan was sure Joy was ready to say Yes. How could he have been so wrong?
“No. That’s not what I mean.”
“But that’s what you just said. Trust me, I know. I’m sitting right here. In fact, my brain has it on replay. You ‘don’t want to make the same mistake twice.’”
Joy cupped his cheeks with two warms hands. “Oh, Tristan.” With an empathic shake of her head, she sighed as if mentally preparing to unleash a well-rehearsed lecture.
He braced himself for the “Dear John” speech, or worse.
“Let’s just get past this summer, okay?” Like her gentle tone, her small smile was a hopeful sign. “I know you said you’re ready to settle down in Scenic View, but what if you change your mind about everything once Nicole goes back to live with her mother in Star Harbor.”
“I doubt that’ll happen.”
“But it could. I knew it when I got involved with you, still I couldn’t keep away from you. Lord knows I tried.” She rolled her eyes in humility and shrugged. “What can I say? You’re completely irresistible.” Crimson filled her chest and crept into her cheeks.
Clamor from the other room stole their attention for a moment as the kids burst into the living room en route to Nicole’s bedroom.
“But,” Joy continued, “you never came to Scenic View to stay. And I don’t want to be the one to stop you from what you set out to do. I’d hate to be the reason you changed your mind, and somewhere down the line you wind up regretting the decision and blame it on me. I could never blame you for moving back to Star Harbor to be near Nicole while she’s with her mother. I understand what you’re going through. I need you to understand I’m not saying yes because I don’t want to be with you. I’m saying no ’cause you need to make an enormous decision about your future, for your daughter’s sake. You need an open heart and a clear mind and I think getting married now would just cloud your good judgment.”
She sat back looking sadder than he’d ever seen, deflated, like she’d released all the things cluttering her brain but was too afraid to say until now.
Restraining the urge to argue with her after she just shot down his spontaneous proposal, he said, “I think you’re right. You’ll only be next door. I’ll wave to you over the fence.” And that’ll give me time to get the ring and do things the way I planned—making you an offer you can’t refuse.
Joy exhaled like she’d won the battle but this love-war wasn’t over yet as far as Tristan was concerned.
The children appeared, standing in a neat line side-by-side with conspiring grins. “We’re hungry,” they sang in unison.
“Aren’t you tired yet?” It was nine o’clock and Niblet, who passed out by this time on a normal night, was revved up.
“Actually, I’m kinda hungry, too.” Joy stood, stretching, with fingers pressed into the small of her back like the passionate conversation was as physically exhausting as it was emotionally.
While she poked holes in juice pouches, heated frozen fish sticks, and cut watermelon into bite size chunks for the children, Tristan drained the bottle of wine into the adults’ glasses then arranged a platter of cheese with crackers and grapes for their grown-up palates.
Once the kids were fed and happy, they scurried off for another round of fun and games, which didn’t last very long. By ten-thirty Nicole was sleeping in his bed, as she had since moving in with him, and Joy’s boys conked out on the full-sized bed in the spare room while playing the video game system Tristan had installed as bait. Even Cookie and Rex were asleep on the big round cushion in the corner of the living room floor.
With the house quiet and the wine gone, Tristan grabbed two beer bottles from the refrigerator and nudged Joy toward the back porch where the moon illuminated puffs of silver clouds in the black-blue sky and neighboring lilac’s fragranced the moist air.
“You try’na get me drunk so I can’t drive home, Mr. Ca-sin-ooo-va?” she slurred, accepting the open beer.
“Tryin’?” Tristan chuckled as he assisted her unstable body into the low Adirondack chair. Who was he to poke fun of anyone when he wasn’t so steady either, making a hard landing into the deep seat beside her. “Oh, sunshine, it’s too late for that. You’re already drunk. There ain’t no way I’m letting you drive home.”
“I’ll just sleep it off out here for a while. Think how nice it’ll be when I’m living next door.” Joy reached out her hand and Tristan took the hint, intertwining his fingers with hers.
“It’d be nicer if you’d change your mind and stay with me now.” Damn alcohol loosened his lips a little too much.
“Please, Tristan…” Her fingers slipped from his to the beer bottle standing between her thighs. She took a long gulp then started peeling off the paper label with her fingernail. “My boys are finally getting used to being with me. I can’t handle any extra pressure from you right now.”
“I know…I know. I’m just happier when you’re near me. I miss you like crazy when you’re gone.”
“I miss you too. But we’re adults. We’re supposed make sacrifices for our kids because it’s the right thing to do.”
Tristan ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and numb enough to pull it from the root. “You just don’t get it.”
“I do get it. You’re the one not getting it through your head.”
Despite the armrest digging into his side, he leaned toward her to make sure she heard him right. “Marry me, Joy. I’m serious.”
“We just had this conversation. I thought we were done. When I said I can’t say yes, I meant it. Not yet. Maybe one day. Just not today.”
Partially out of spite to get a rise out of her, to see her reaction, but mostly because the booze had him feeling invincible, he opened his fat trap and let stupidity spew out before he could put a cork in it. “Don’t expect me to beg, Joy.”
She snapped her head in his direction and blinked hard like owl-eyes bringing him into focus. “I don’t.”
Rather than blurt out an immediate apology for saying something he didn’t mean, he let his injuring words keep rolling. “Good. ’Cause I won’t,” he spat, sounding childish inside his hollow head.
“Fine,” Joy retorted in a tone equally as immature. “Then quit asking.”
“I will.”
“Terrific.” She shot to her unsteady feet. “If we’re done here, maybe you can take us home now.”
“You’ll have to wait until I sober up.” He pushed himself upright, swaying, anxious to hit the mattress before he hit the wood under his feet. “Let’s go inside and lay down for a while.” He put out a hand but Joy ignored him.
“No, thanks.” She flopped back into the chair.
“You’re really gonna stay out here all night?”
A defiant flame glimmered in her tired eyes. “Yep.”
“You’re gonna get eaten alive by the mosquitoes.”
“Perfect.” She gripped the armrests, securing her position as if Tristan might haul her over his shoulder like a bag of sugar.
“Look. I didn’t mean what I said about—”
“Begging me to marry you?” Joy unleashed a cynical tone and scornful smile he’d only seen when dealing with her ex-husband.
“I just wanted to see your reaction.”
She cut her eyes from him to the opalescent moon. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Can we just have a do-over? This has been the best Father’s Day. I don’t want it to end like this.”
Joy snorted, then mumbled under her breath, “Too late.”
Since nothing he said was the right thing, Tristan shut up and sat back down. The pigheaded contest to see who would go inside first lasted until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.
Jolted by the rattle of his own snoring, Tristan awoke to a denim blue sky, chirping birds, and his T-shirt damp from the morning dew. He reached out to touch Joy beside him but the chair was empty. He rubbed his eyes to be sure. Then shot to his feet and ran into the house. She wasn’t in the kitchen or on the living room couch. She wasn’t in his bedroom. And her boys weren’t in the spare room. The van was gone too.
“Joy,” he growled, mad at himself for not knowing when to quit last night. He grabbed his cellphone off the entrance table next to the unopened card she’d given him. Before he dialed her number, he noticed her text message:
—I’m home. talk soon—
That’s it?
Tristan started to text her back, not sure what to say to make things right, so he deleted everything and just typed: xo and pressed Send.
A moment later his cellphone vibrated with an incoming message: xo.
He sighed in relief; at least her response was a good sign.
He swapped the phone for the envelope and ran his finger beneath the sealed flap. It was a Father’s Day card like he suspected. Nothing sappy or snarky, just a simple wish for a good man to have a good day per the preprinted sentiment. And in Joy’s neat script, she added a curious poem: Happy Father’s Day to a great guy. (Don’t forget—Christmas in July.)
She couldn’t let go of that harebrained idea of hers, could she?
Inspired by her creative gentle reminder, Tristan smacked the card against his forehead on his way to bed with his wheels turning as he figured out how to make this a Christmas in July none of them would ever forget.
****
Joy hated dragging the boys home half asleep at three o’clock in the morning. But once she sobered up she wanted to go home—not that Lorraine’s place was home, but it was far enough from Tristan.
She loved that man without a shadow of a doubt. Why couldn’t he stop pressuring her?
Just a little patience was all she needed right now. Not a proposal. The boys were just getting accustomed to being here. She didn’t have the mindset for marriage, wedding plans, living arrangements, and everything to go along with blending two families when she barely got one family straightened out.
Lying on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep, she heard one of the boys crying in the bedroom so she jumped to her feet.
“Daddy.” It was Owen.
Joy staggered in the dark toward his side of the bed. “Baby. Mommy’s here. Shhh…”
“Mommy?” he whined with a pang of uncertainty in his tiny voice.
“It’s me.” She turned on the bedside lamp.
“Mommy. Why did you go away?”
Shocked by the question, she wasn’t sure if the boy was talking in his sleep or if she was still drunk and dreaming. “What do you mean?”
“You left us. You moved away. Daddy said you didn’t love us anymore, and that’s why you didn’t take us with you.”
“That’s not true, O. That’s not true at all. You and Mason said you didn’t want to live with me. You’d rather live with Daddy and Felicity.”
“Well…” He sat up with the blanket rumpled at his waist. “That’s because Daddy loves us more,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Is that what he told you?”
Owen nodded. “He said you didn’t want to be with us. That’s why you left without us.”
It made no sense rehashing her painful side of the story about living with Victor’s mini-mes, reminding the boy if he’d forgotten. She wanted to put the past behind them all and build new memories to cherish. “I love you more than anything and anyone in the whole entire universe. I only moved to Scenic View without bringing you boys so I could have a house all ready for when you got here, but it’s taking longer than I expected. Daddy and I thought it would be best if you finished the school year with your friends. As soon as school ended you came here, right?”
“And I didn’t have to miss Field Day.”
“See. It worked out perfectly. You just didn’t know the whole plan, that’s all. Now that you’re here with me, we can start a brand new life.”
“What about Daddy?”
“Hmmm?” Joy hadn’t told the boys about the day their father attacked her in the Christmas Shoppe, and she had no intention of mentioning it, ever. All she said was Daddy went home to Felicity because the baby was coming; let Victor be the one to sort out the specifics of that terrorizing tale. “Daddy and Felicity have their new life. And we have our new life.”
“When you say we, ya mean, you, and me, and Owen, and Nicole and Tristan?”
The brilliant boy’s perception of the two families’ dynamic relationship stunned Joy. “Do you like Nicole and Tristan?” she asked, hopeful.
“Do you like Nicole and Tristan?” he repeated, matching the upturned inflection of her tone.
“Yes, I do. Very much.” She tried not to sound mushy-gushy.
“I like them too. Tristan’s fun. And for a girl, Nicole’s hardly a pain.” Owen’s soft brown eyes gazed at Joy as he asked with all seriousness, “Did you marry him yet?”
Surprised by the pointed question, Joy shook her head. “No, baby. I’m not married to anyone.”
“I told Mason you weren’t, but he says you and Tristan are.”
“What made him say that?” Joy could only imagine how their young minds interpreted the grownup friendship.
“Well…He thinks you act like you’re married. Like the way you’re always doing stuff together with us. We’re always going out to eat together. We went to the carnival together. And spent Father’s Day together. He says Daddy and Felicity never do that stuff with us because they’re not married yet.”
“Are you sure you only graduated from kindergarten and not college? Because that’s quite an interesting observation.” Joy’s full heart could’ve burst on the spot seeing the world though a child’s insightful eye. “Trust me, if I get married you’ll be the very first person I tell.”
“Will I be invited to the wedding?”
She chuckled. “Absolutely.”
Owen smiled. “The other reason Mason thought you were married was ’cause Tristan has a room for us with an Xbox and everything.”
“A room for you? Really?” Joy envisioned Tristan planting the seed of a good idea in the boys’ heads.
“Yep. That’s what he said. We can stay over anytime, all the time, if we wanted to.”
“Yeah, well… Tristan’s a good host like that. Always makes a guest feel welcome. Like family.”
“Ya know, if you marry him I’ll be okay with that. And between you and me, if Daddy doesn’t marry Felicity, I wouldn’t mind a bit.”
Joy concealed a smirk and didn’t bother to probe the Victor and Felicity scenario. “Don’t you want to get used to living with me before you get used to living with a new…dad?” This whole conversation felt somewhat wrong yet at the same time completely right. The best part was Joy didn’t have to all the talking.
Owen shrugged. “I know lots of kids with new moms and dads. It’s not really a big deal. Like getting a new car. Or a new dog. It’s a lotta fun at first but then it’s like regular stuff. No big deal. I’m not a baby anymore, ya know. I can handle a new dad and a little sister.”
Joy didn’t know whether to cry or laugh so she just squeezed her son so tight he yelped.
“I can’t breathe, Ma.”
“Sorry.”
“Why ya crushing me so hard for?”
She loosened her grip, and rubbed the tip of her nose to her son’s in an Eskimo kiss. “Because I love you too much, that’s why. And I missed you too much. I’m trying to catch up on all the hugs.”
“I love you too. But I don’t wanna squash ya ’til your guts come out.”
“You better go to sleep now. Tomorrow’s a busy day. We’re gonna tour your new school and meet your first grade teacher. Then we’re meeting Lily for ice cream at Yummy-Cone’s Palace. We have to pick up your baseball gear, so you’re ready for your first practice next week. And I thought, if there’s time, we could take a trip to the comic book store.”
“I can’t wait for morning.” Owen squealed in delight, then slid to the edge of the bed, leaving a big gap in the middle, patting the place between him and his big brother. “Why don’t you sleep here. There’s plenty of room.”
A hard lump filled Joy’s throat. “You sure? I don’t want to take up too much space.”
Owen gave his mother a stern look. “Don’t be silly, Mommy. Just lie down and go to sleep.”
It was a sweet offer and one she couldn’t refuse. “Okay.”
She flicked off the light, then crawled between their little bodies, slipped under the covers, and fell asleep between her two little boys, happier than she’d ever been.