Chapter Thirty-One
Fletcher
After today's events, we decide to treat the children to whatever they want for dinner this evening. That means chicken fingers for Henry, though his preferred choice was, of course, ice cream. I told him, "No, Henry. Real food only please. Dessert comes later."
He pouted briefly but then gave up the battle.
We've just walked into Lucio's Family Ristorante, the best pizza place in Millbrook Valley. The hostess, a woman with dark-red hair that has purple streaks in it, greets us with a wide smile. "Table for six?"
"Yes, that's right," I confirm, watching Jennifer herd the kids into a line.
The restaurant buzzes with Friday night energy---families laughing, waiters balancing trays of steaming food, the wood-fired oven crackling in the open kitchen. The familiar smell of garlic and tomato sauce makes my stomach growl.
"Dad, look!" Henry points to the arcade games near the back. "Can I have quarters? Please?"
"After dinner," Jennifer tells him before I can respond. "Let's get everyone fed first."
"Good idea." I am enormously grateful for her ability to maintain order when all I want to do is give in to Henry's pleading eyes. Something about the way Jennifer handles the children with such ease reminds of how lucky I am to have found a woman like her. She has a natural talent I lack.
"Fletcher?" Jennifer catches me staring.
"Sorry, just thinking about how good you are with them."
We follow the hostess through the bustling restaurant and settle into a large corner booth. The kids immediately grab the paper placemats and crayons, except for Amelia, who's busy texting under the table.
"No phones at dinner, pet," I remind her.
She rolls her eyes but complies with minimal huffing. It's a bloody miracle.
Jennifer slides in beside me, her arm brushing mine as she reaches for a menu. The scent of her wafts over me, and I suddenly need to adjust my crotch. She always smells like...woman. It's intoxicating.
"I can't believe how hungry I am this evening," my wife whispers to me. "It'll be fun when Claudia and Marcus visit us for Thanksgiving."
"Yes, I'm looking forward to it as well." I freeze, abruptly shocked by what I've just said. "Crikey. Can't believe I'm actually excited about seeing them both."
Jennifer laughs gently. "My, how our lives have changed. Your ex-wife is now a good friend to both of us, and the kids are happier than ever despite school starting in a few days."
"It's quite shocking, isn't it?"
She laughs again in her sweet way that always warms me up from the inside out.
After our celebratory meal at the pizzeria, the kids are unusually well-behaved, a rarity worth savoring. Even Henry hasn't tried to stick a straw up his nose yet.
"What are you thinking about?" Jennifer asks, nudging me with her shoulder.
"Just how completely normal this feels. Family dinner. No disasters. No one's thrown food either. Yet."
She tries not to laugh but snorts instead. "Don't jinx it, sweetie."
Our server appears, a college-aged lad with an impressive tattoo on his left arm. "Ready to order?"
Henry bounces in his seat. "Chicken fingers! With extra ketchup!"
The server jots it down. "Got it, little man." The server turns to me, pen poised. "And for you, sir?"
"I'll have the meat lover's pizza, medium." I glance at Jennifer. "Share with me?"
She nods, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Perfect. And can we get a side of garlic knots for the table?"
Amelia pipes up without glancing away from her placemat. "I want the pesto pasta, no mushrooms."
Once everyone's ordered, I lean back in the booth, my arm naturally falling behind Jennifer. The weight of the day seems to lift in this moment of normalcy.
During the next few months, leading up to Thanksgiving, Claudia and Marcus invite us to their place in Los Angeles for an extended-family meal.
That means three sets of grandparents will come with us too.
Marcus does very well as a yoga instructor, thanks mostly to his YouTube channel, so he and Claudia have gone all out for this event---paying for airline tickets for the whole family and setting us up in a swanky hotel.
"It's incredibly generous of them," Jennifer says as we browse flights on my laptop. "Though I'm a bit nervous about all the grandparents meeting in such close quarters for an extended period."
I pat her thigh. "Don't worry, love. I suspect my mother will be comparing etiquette notes with your father the entire time."
"And my mother will be interrogating yours about her skincare routine."
Henry bounces onto the sofa between us, nearly upending the laptop. "Will there be a pool? Marcus said there might be a pool!"
"Yes, there's a pool," I confirm, ruffling his hair. "And the beach is just a short walk away."
He grins and jumps up and down. "Can we go surfing? Marcus promised to teach me!"
"We'll see," I hedge, which is parent code for 'absolutely not.' But I don't have the heart to crush his excitement just yet.
Our trip to Los Angeles flies by in a blur of beaches and tourist shops and palm trees. We're glad to go home, but we will miss Marcus and Claudia. Still, we can look forward to Thanksgiving with them. We Murgatroyds know how to turn holidays into unforgettable events.
Before I know it, Thanksgiving Day has arrived.
The table is crowded in the best way, and the room is filled with jokes and laughter.
Claudia has somehow managed to transform our dining room into an Instagram-worthy autumn wonderland.
Candles flicker in mason jars wrapped with twine, and a centerpiece of gourds, pinecones, and tiny white pumpkins trails down the middle of the table.
"This is gorgeous," Jennifer says, squeezing my hand under the table. "Claudia has really gone all out."
"I agree." We watch as Marcus carries in the first turkey on a massive platter. With a theatrical flourish, pronounces, "Behold! The bird of gratitude!"
My mother claps politely while Jennifer's father, a retired teacher with a Santa Claus-like laugh, seems as if he's still deciding whether Marcus is a proper adult or not.
Then the Aussie returns to the kitchen to bring in another huge turkey that's slightly larger than the first. He sets it down with another regal flourish.
"Daddy carved the turkey last year," Henry informs everyone loudly.
"And this year it's my turn," Marcus announces with a grin, wielding the carving knife with surprising dexterity. "Two turkeys for this growing family."
I catch Jennifer's eye across the table. We both know what's coming.
"Actually," Henry pipes up, "Dad made a mess. There was turkey everywhere! Even in Amelia's hair!"
Amelia shoots him a death glare. "That's not true. Dad just had a little accident with the electric carver."
"The thing went rogue," I explain. "Perfectly normal kitchen mishap."
Marcus laughs. "Well, I promise no roasted turkey will be harmed today."
My mother leans toward Jennifer's mother and whispers something that makes them both titter. I pretend not to notice.
Jennifer rescues me, sort of, and winks too. "Fletcher has many talents---but carving isn't one of them."
I reach for her hand and squeeze it. "Cruel, but fair, darling. I've never been good at carving meat."
The warmth and joy of family surrounds as Marcus expertly slices the turkey, serving juicy portions to everyone. Even Jennifer's father looks impressed, which is no small feat.
"So," Claudia drawls, passing the cranberry sauce, "any exciting news to share with everyone?"
My heart skips. Jennifer and I exchange a quick glance, having discussed whether today would be the right moment. Her slight nod gives me courage.
"Since you asked..." I clear my throat deliberately, aware of all eyes turning to me. "Jennifer and I do have some news."
The table falls silent. Henry freezes in mid-bite, his dinner roll forgotten, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
Jennifer grins. "We're expecting."
A collective gasp ripples around the table. My mother's hand flies to her chest. Jennifer's father drops his fork with a clatter.
"You're---" Claudia's eyes widen, then she breaks into a radiant smile. "Oh my goodness! That's fabulous news!"
"When will the little one arrive?" Marcus asks, grinning. He holds the carving knife suspended in mid-air.
"May," Jennifer confirms, her cheeks flushing pink. "We're due in May."
Amelia stares at us, her expression unreadable. I catch her eye, trying to gauge her reaction. This affects her more than anyone. After a moment, she shrieks. "I'm getting another sibling?!"
I lay my hand over hers. "Yes, pet. How do you feel about that?"
She considers the idea for a moment, holding her forkful of stuffing in midair. "As long as I don't have to change diapers."
"Don't worry, Amelia. We won't make you do that, though I'm sure you'll enjoy playing with your new sibling."
Later, after all our guests have returned to their respective homes---or hotel room, for Claudia and Marcus---we put the children to bed.
Once we're back in our room, I hold my wife close and nuzzle her cheek.
As she falls asleep, I think back on how lonely I'd been after Claudia divorced me, and how much my life has changed in such a short time span.
Yes, I am the luckiest bloke on earth.