41. Summer
CHAPTER 41
Summer
E mma’s piercing, joyful shriek bursts through the air as she leaps over the sprinkler toy, getting splashed with cold water from the hose. She’ll start first grade tomorrow, and for a second I allow myself to mourn the passing of time and that she’ll never be as tiny as she is today. After that second, I shake it off. I want to be excited about all of her milestones, not dreading them. My mom only got to live so many of mine, and I just want to appreciate the ones I get with Emma.
The sliding door opens behind me making me gasp and jump. A warm arm bands around my waist, and a beard catches in my hair when the man behind it presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “Back to not locking doors, I see. It’s out of spite isn’t it?” Ryan asks teasingly in my ear. I laugh, give his arm a squeeze, and then gently peel it off. We decided to avoid PDA in front of her at first. I don’t know how jarring it will be for her otherwise.
“Hey, Em,” I call, “There’s someone here I want you to meet.” I gesture to Ryan, who is now a respectable distance away, and she stops frolicking in the water to tilt her head at him.
“That guy?” When I nod, she shrugs her freckled shoulders and says, “I already know him. He got me ice cream, remember? ”
I shift a bit on my feet and am suddenly uncomfortable. Why does it feel like I’m about to tell my parents about a new boyfriend? “Can you just come here please?” I plead, holding out a wide seahorse-print beach towel. Her sigh is audible over the din of the neighborhood winding down for dinners and bedtimes. The sound of children’s screaming laughs, thumping feet, and parents calling out to their kids to come eat permeate the balmy, late summer air.
She covers herself in the beach towel and plops in the nearest chair. She pushes her wet hair back and looks at Ryan, “I did forget your name, sorry,” she says with a wince.
He smiles and sits down in the chair opposite her. “I’m Ryan.”
“That’s it! I knew it started with an R, I just didn’t know if it was Riley, or Robert, or something. I had a boy in my class last year named Roscoe. I told him it sounded like a dog’s name and he got pretty mad at me. I thought I was being nice. I love dogs!” She says this last part to me meaningfully, and I close my eyes briefly to avoid rolling them. She’s been begging for a dog forever and I haven’t felt ready for it with all the changes we’ve had. Coconut comes to mind though, and I feel myself thaw a little at the idea.
“Dogs are pretty cool,” Ryan says sagely. Emma grins at him so wide, you can see her missing lower tooth. I release a long-suffering sigh and sit in the free chair between them.
A scheming glint enters her eye and I work to get us back on topic. “Dogs are wonderful pets that are a lot of work. Anyway, Emma. Ryan and I have something to tell you.”
She sits up straighter, the towel falling from her shoulders, “Are you gonna have a baby?”
“What?” Ryan and I both gasp in unison. I collect myself and say, “No, sweetie, not at all.” She visibly deflates. “Did—did you want me to be pregnant?”
She nods, bottom lip pouting out, “Vivian from my gymnastics class is having twin baby sisters. Twins!” I heave a sigh of relief as understanding hits me. She is obsessed with babies and used to frequently badger Jared and me to have more. It never felt like the right time. But now… I look over at Ryan and pictures of a little mini-us flash through my head. I smile a little at that.
Maybe one day.
“Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure once Vivian’s mom says it's okay, you can go over to play with her and meet her sisters,” I say. Emma nods and adjusts her posture again, sadness forgotten. “Back to the point. Emma, Ryan and I are dating and have been for almost six months now,” I end in a rush.
“Oh. Okay,” she says with a shrug. Then she turns narrowed eyes on Ryan, “Hey, you told me you were just friends at Swirl!”
Ryan raises his hands defensively, “It wasn’t up to me to tell you. That was between your mom and dad.” I subtly kick his shin under the table for throwing me under the bus.
I give Ryan a look and turn my eyes back to Emma, “We wanted to make sure things were serious before we told you, hon. You’ve already gone through a lot of change.”
Emma rolls her eyes in a way that sends a shiver down my spine because she looks exactly like me when she does it. “I’m not a baby anymore, Mama. Besides, it's pretty cool to have two bedrooms. Other than missing you or Daddy, it's been kind of fun.”
“Well, I’m glad,” I say, and it's true. I am so happy that despite everything that’s happened, the only thing she’s gotten out of it is that it’s fun to have two rooms. I’m proud of myself and Jared because we’ve made sure her life is as great as we could make it, even if we were struggling. “But, just so you know, nothing is going to change for you for a while. You just might see Ryan around more now that Dad and I are comfortable with that. Is that alright with you?”
She shrugs. “Sure. I don’t care,” she says, turning to Ryan, “You’re pretty cool. ”
“Is that opinion based on the fact that I bought you ice cream after gymnastics?” he asks playfully.
“Well yeah,” she deadpans, “And also you make my mom happy. She smiles and laughs way more now.” Leave it to kids to deliver an emotional gut punch right before asking, “Can we have pizza now? I’m hungry.” I nod, baffled at how smoothly that conversation went, but choosing not to question it.
Ryan and I stand and lead her inside where the smell of pepperoni pizza wafts in the air. I instruct Emma to go get changed into some dry clothes and Ryan and I go to the kitchen to get everything ready. He picked up the pizza on the way over and my mouth waters in anticipation. Calypso’s Pizza is the best local pizza place, and we decided we wouldn’t pull any punches today. Ryan grabs some plates from the cabinet and says, “That went well.”
“It did. Better than I was expecting, honestly. I wasn’t sure if she was still holding out hope for Jared and me.” I pull a few slices off for Emma and get her water ready. Then I remember something and say, “Shoot, I’ll be right back. Emma is probably looking for some clean shorts and I think they’re all in the dryer.” I grab her shorts from the laundry and enter her room with a knock.
As predicted, she’s still dripping in her swimsuit and pulling drawers open haphazardly. “I can’t find any shorts, Mama,” she says, throwing me a look over her shoulder.
“I know, sorry. I was washing clothes today.” I shut the door behind me and walk across her room to hand them to her.
“Thanks,” she replies, peeling out of her wet swimsuit.
When she’s in her dry shorts and a tank top, I ask, “So are you really okay with Ryan and me?”
She nods and gives me a little smile, “Yeah. Actually, I have something to tell you.” My head tilts in curiosity and she says in a rush, “One day a couple of months ago I went in your closet looking for that feather scarf thing that you wore last Halloween because I was playing dress up and wanted to wear it. I saw a man’s clothes I knew weren’t daddy’s, and then when Ryan said he was your friend, I sort of knew he was lying. He was wearing one of the shirts I saw that day.” I sigh and look up at the ceiling, counting to ten in my head. “I know I’m not supposed to go in your room alone, I’m sorry.” Her chin wobbles and I pull her into me.
“You’re forgiven. Thank you for being honest with me.”
She leans back from the hug to look at me, her eyes wet, “I really am happy about Ryan. I can tell you like him, and I think he really likes you.”
“You think so?” I ask.
She nods and says, “He looks at you the way Flynn Ryder looks at Rapunzel at the end of the movie.” She shrugs and I can see that’s about all it takes for her. “And I love Daddy, but he never looked at you like that.” I laugh because she’s probably right. I don’t think Jared has looked at me like that in a long time.
“Well, it must be because I’m a princess,” I say, swiping her plastic tiara off her dresser and perching it on my head.
She giggles and says, “Come on, I want pizza.” She takes me by the hand and tugs me out of the room.
Ryan sees the tiara on my head when we enter the kitchen and he raises a brow at me, mouthing “I like it,” over Emma’s head. “Your majesties,” he says with a haughty British accent, bowing low and grabbing my hand to place a kiss on the back of it. Emma laughs at his antics and curtsies before skipping to the pizza awaiting her on the table. We spend the next hour gorging ourselves, laughing, and chatting. I watch as Ryan makes his crust dance a jig and then bow to Emma’s utter delight.
I sit back and feel a pleasant tingle run down my spine as it sinks in: This is my real life. I look from my laughing, pizza-sauced daughter to the man who feels like I tore him from the pages of a book and feel a deep sense of peace. Of home.