My head was spinning, and my eye had a slight twitch to it from Harper’s speech and the abundance of information I learned from our six-year-old. I’m not entirely sure that she breathed the entire time she spoke (or that the doctor didn’t slip her a little somethin’ somethin’) but it was so wonderful to hear her normal self. She was Harper, and a week apart from us and falling off her horse didn’t change that.
Before we left, I was so worried about our trip. I worried that we wouldn’t be able to connect again. I worried that the kids might fall apart with us gone. I worried that they’d be upset with us for leaving and not understand, but I worried about it all for nothing. Our time away was so wonderful, and we loved every single minute of it. Barrett and I still had it. In fact, I daresay, we had it more than what we did when we were younger.
“Babe, did you hear me?”
“Huh?”
Barrett chuckled, “Dream girl, I asked if you wanted me to make some breakfast before we leave, or if you want to just keep packing and grab something on the road?”
“Oh! Sorry, I was just thinking.”
“Got that. What about? You doing alright?”
I walked over to where he was standing in the doorway of the bedroom and wrapped my arms around his waist. I leaned in and held him close, resting my right cheek against his chest and inhaling deep. His natural heady scent washes over me and makes me feel calm, relaxed. Only he can do that for me. I nod my head against him and smile. “Yeah,” I say as I pull back slightly and tilt my head up to look at him. “I’m good.”
“Sure?”
“Positive.”
He stares into my eyes, no doubt checking to see if I’m lying. Whatever he sees is enough for him to relax a little bit but tighten his hold around my waist. He bends down and brushes his lips against mine, which starts out brief, but a slight taste has us both reaching for a bit more, before standing up straight again and smiling down at me. “Alright.”
I smile back up at him and repeat, “Alright.”
“Babe?”
“Yeah?” I ask, a little distracted by how incredibly beautiful my husband is.
“Breakfast?”
“Oh!” I say a little too loudly and then laugh at my own ridiculousness. “Let’s make something. That makes for fewer groceries we have to cart back home with us.”
He smiles at me and nods his head once, “Good plan, baby. I’ll get started.” He kisses me once on top of my head, swats me on my butt, and walks back out of the bedroom toward the kitchen.
I hear him moving around and soon a “Babe?” is hollered through the small cabin.
“Yeah?”
“Any requests?” Again hollered.
“Cheesy scrambled eggs and ham!” I yell back, knowing that will use up the last of those items. And it’s his specialty. Well, sort of. I just know he makes excellent cheesy eggs.
“Sounds good!” he shouts back, even though he could just speak in normal tones because the cabin is so small. I know he’s doing it just to mess with me, or maybe he’s doing it to get me used to the loudness that will come back as soon as we enter our house. Either way, I love him for it. He’s a giant dork most of the time, but that’s one of the things I love about him the most. He owns his dork.
The snowstorm left its magical wake, making our trip home quite interesting. But after seven long hours in the car — which should have taken us five if the weather had cooperated — we’re finally pulling into our driveway. The second I open my car door, I see three beautiful heads pop out of the door that leads from the house to the garage. We got a much later start than expected because of the roads not being cleared, but still managed to get home at around five in the afternoon. I didn’t expect to see Grady here, so this is a wonderful surprise. Behind the three of them, I see James towering over them, shaking his head and smiling.
Harper pushes through the door as I round the front of the car and I, carefully, considering her arm is casted, hoist her up and hug her tightly. “Mommy! You’re home! It’s been nearly years!” she says in her dramatic flair that only six-year-olds exhibit — well, teenagers too, I suppose.
I hug her close and inhale her sweet scent. “Hi, baby girl. How ya doing?”
“I’m so great! Uncle James had lunch with us at school today! And guess what?”
“What?!” I ask her, in my own dramatic flair.
“He. Brought. Subway!”
“No. Way!”
“Uh-huh! A ham sandwich, some apples, and a cookie, and it was in one of those awesome bags!”
“Well, sounds like Uncle James scored some major points!”
“How’d you know that? He scored like a hundred points playing soccer at recess after lunch!”
“He did, huh?” I giggle, just picturing my big brother chase Harper and all her friends around the playground.
“Yeah huh! I asked Ms. Hanson if he could stay, and she said he could if he wanted to, and he said he wouldn’t miss it for the world!” She’s so excited that almost everything out of her mouth is screamed, and I wonder if her voice will go hoarse pretty soon.
“I just bet he didn’t say no to Ms. Hanson,” Barrett snickers, but I hear James laugh.
Ms. Hanson used to be Mrs. Hanson. From what I hear, a few years ago, her husband of twelve years decided he needed to downgrade to a much younger version of her. Given the fact that Ms. Hanson looks like the definition of the girl next door, with her naturally blonde hair cut in a blunt shoulder-length bob and deep brown eyes to match, is also a yoga instructor, middle school tennis assistant coach, and all around gorgeous person inside and out, not only is her husband a complete moron, but the parents of her students (and some of those that aren’t her students) are constantly trying to set her up. Even the few brave single dads have asked her out on their own. This isn’t to say that I haven’t thought of James one of the many times she and I have spoken.
We all step inside, and Barrett and I continue to give hugs. When I greet Maggie with a big squeeze, I whisper in her ear, “I hear there’s someone who’s caught Jack’s eye, hmm?”
I hear her gasp before she whispers back, “Mom?! How’d you hear that!?”
“Harper had quite a bit to tell us last night. We’ll talk later?”
“Yeah, of course. It’ll never happen though, Mom,” she grumbles quietly, and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Grady freaked. So did Brandon. Cole will too. Not to mention Dad.”
“We’ll talk,” I promise her as I pat her on the arm
I turn around and see Grady is still talking to his dad. Barrett has his hand clamped on Grady’s team-jersey-clad shoulder, but when he sees me looking his way, he turns and walks straight into my arms.
“How are you, my sweet boy?” I ask him as he lifts me up and hugs me tightly.
“I’m good, Mom. Missed you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Missed you, too, bud,” I tell him as I step back a little and look up into my handsome son’s face. I know he will need to be heading over to the field in a few minutes. I also know he’ll be anxious to not be late as he’s still trying to prove his worth to Coach Mac and the team, even though he needn’t do that. I’m sure they have full faith and trust in him, regardless of his flub a few weeks ago.