Chapter 31
Megan
I could smell the barbecue from our place, and when Mason and I pull up to the big house, the sound of music and laughter drifts through the open windows and carries across the yard.
We walk around the house toward the backyard. I’ve got a pan of brownies in one hand, still warm from the oven. Mason helped me make them. He likes baking more than he lets on, I think, because anytime he sees me making something, he jumps in to help. And I think it’s sweet.
Leonard’s manning the grill, flipping burgers and wearing that ridiculous apron Maureen got him for Christmas that says Mr. Good Looking is Cooking. Maureen’s got Weston snuggled against her chest, rocking him gently in one of the patio chairs while she chats with the girls.
Across the yard, Wesley and Jesse are standing guard by the swing set, watching the kids play.
Jesse’s making sure no one falls off the platform, while Wesley pushes Emma on the swing.
She’s squealing with joy. Further down, Cody’s trailing behind Gage, who’s still in that wobbly, unsteady-walking phase, toddling through the grass with a ball in one hand and a stick in the other.
The second we’re spotted, Cora comes running, blond hair flying, pink sundress bouncing with every step. “Guess what I did!” she yells, vibrating with excitement.
“Tell me!” Mason crouches down, grinning like he’s about to hear the secret of the century.
“I helped Grandma pour the lemonade all by myself and only spilled a little bit!”
“No way!” Mason gasps, overly dramatic.
“Wow!” I laugh. “That’s amazing!”
She beams, proud as can be, and darts off again.
We make our way to the patio table, greeted with the usual round of warm hellos. The table’s set with mismatched paper plates and disposable silverware, everything spread over a red-checked tablecloth. The air smells like grilled corn, barbecue sauce, and Maureen’s sweet tea.
* * *
By the time lunch is over, the kids have scattered. Cora and Emma are blowing bubbles for the younger ones to chase, and Mason’s determined to teach them how to make the “really big ones.”
After we clean up, us girls hang out at the table, sipping tea and swatting gnats. Mason is tossing a football back and forth with Jesse and Wes. Meanwhile, Cody and Leonard are on kid duty at the swing set. It’s quite comical.
“Alright.” Jesse claps his hands, voice carrying across the yard. “Me and Wes against Mason and Cody. Two-hand touch, five-yard passes.”
Cody scoffs. “Two-hand touch? You scared you’ll break a nail?”
“Alright then, tackle,” Jesse fires back, flipping his cap around. “But don’t cry when I knock you flat.”
“Knock me flat?” Cody laughs, calling something I can’t make out over the noise of Weston getting fussy.
Ella sighs, bringing her iced tea toward her. “Oh, here we go.”
“If someone starts bleeding, I’m out.” I raise my hands in surrender, earning a round of laughter.
The guys line up in the middle of the yard. Wesley hikes the ball to Jesse, who fumbles it immediately but somehow manages to scoop it before Cody plows straight into him. Jesse hits the grass with a solid thud that echoes across the yard.
“Oh jeez.” Karissa groans, covering her face.
I burst out laughing. “Holy crap.”
Ella shoots to her feet like a mom on the sidelines. “Jess! What was that?” she calls out, hands in the air like a coach. Karissa and I laugh at her.
Maureen jumps in with her mom-voice. “Easy! You two have kids—you don’t bounce like you used to!”
“Oh, he’s fine,” Mason says, waving her off…and then winks at me, already flushed from the heat and way too confident for someone who’s probably next to get tackled.
Jesse props himself up on an elbow and looks at Ella, breathless. “I mean, I’m a little out of practice,” he presses.
Ella crosses her arms but she’s smiling. “A little?” she mutters, sitting back into her chair, shaking her head like she’s remembering the past, their relationship back in high school.
The next play, Cody takes the ball. He throws it to Mason, who sprints down the middle, dodging Wesley and Jesse easily before diving into the end zone. He jumps up, arms raised like he just won the Super Bowl.
We all cheer from the sidelines; even the kids join in, clapping and squealing.
Weston starts fussing louder, and Addison stands, saying something about nursing and changing his diaper. Maureen follows.
I sit back in my chair, the umbrella shading me from the afternoon sun, and sip the last of my tea.
“How are you doing, Meg?” Ella asks suddenly, her voice soft but sincere.
Mason told everyone what was going on a few weeks ago, so I know that’s what she’s referring to.
I glance between her and Karissa, feeling their warmth. “Yeah, I’m good. We, um…” I let out a nervous laugh. “We decided we’re content just being married right now. Truly.”
Karissa smiles knowingly. “That’s a good place to be.”
“After that weekend with your kids,” I tease, “I was like, hmm…maybe I’m not ready for this.”
They both laugh.
“It’s definitely a lot,” Karissa says. “I didn’t know what I was getting into with Emma. Half the time I still don’t.”
“Same,” Ella chimes in.
We laugh again, easy and unforced. And I feel even more peace with where we are.
By the time the game ends, the men look ragged. Like they need a gallon of water and a shower. Mason’s red-faced, grass-stained, and has his hands on his hips, catching his breath as he trudges up the deck steps, wiping sweat from his forehead. He drops down beside me with a heavy sigh.
“Hey,” he breathes.
“Hi.” I smile, shifting Weston, who I hijacked five minutes ago. He’s asleep on my lap now. His tiny hand is wrapped around my finger, soft and perfect.
Mason leans over to peek at him, his voice gentle. “He’s out.”
I laugh quietly. “He just ate.”
Mason grins, brushing the knuckle of his finger against Weston’s little foot. It twitches but his eyes stay closed.
For a few seconds, we just watch the baby and the backyard together, the older toddlers chasing bubbles again now that they have access to the grass. Behind us, Cody and Wesley argue about who actually won the game.
It’s loud and a little chaotic, but somehow, it all feels just right.
* * *
The short drive home is quiet. A good quiet. Content, happy-I-went kind of quiet.
Mason’s hand rests over mine on the console, thumb tracing lazy circles. “You have fun?”
“Mm-hmm. You guys were funny to watch. That’s how I imagine it was when you were growing up.”
“For sure, except we’d last a lot longer and actually hurt each other.” He laughs.
“Oh, I don’t know, Cody knocked Jesse down pretty good.”
He laughs. “Yeah, that was a good hit.”
Mason cuts the engine when we get home and circles around to open my door.
Inside, it smells clean. I mopped all the floors while Mason made the brownies earlier.
“My back’s gonna be feeling that game tomorrow.” He groans with a stretch.
I laugh. “Don’t get too old on me.”
He smiles and reaches for me, looping his arms around my waist. “Careful, Mrs. Jennings, you’re not too far behind me. We’ll be in our eighties before we know it.”
“I hope you’ll still think I’m cute,” I tease.
He chuckles, presses a kiss to my hair. “You’ll still be the cutest darn thing I’ve ever seen.”
We end up in the kitchen. I pull two glasses from the cabinet, fill them with a little wine, and we sit down on the couch.
“You know…days like today are my favorite. You, me, family, church, eating outside, tackle football with my brothers.”
“Yeah?” I nod. “That’s good.”
“It’s nothing crazy, but it just, I don’t know…feeds my soul.”
“That’s great, honey.”
He looks at me, patting my leg. “Nothing crazy.”
It’s quiet again and then it hits me… He’s right. I don’t need much either. Just him. Our people.
And the quiet ways God reminds me He’s still in everything, even on the simple days.
Nothing crazy.