Chapter 21 Esme #3
We went back downstairs and out through French doors to the back deck.
The garden sloped gently downward through raised beds and stone walls and a path someone had laid with care.
The apple tree was enormous and old, its branches reaching wide.
A wooden swing hung from the thickest limb, weathered but sturdy, swaying slightly in the breeze.
Madison ran straight for it. Within seconds she was swinging, pumping her legs, her hair flying behind her. Trevor circled beneath her, barking once, then settling into the grass to watch.
Robbie stood at the edge of the garden, hands in his pockets, looking out at the ocean.
The wind ruffled his hair, and he looked like just a sweet kid, not a genius, or caretaker, or a boy worried about child support and a mortgage.
Just a fourteen-year-old boy, standing in a garden, looking at the sea, dreaming his dreams.
Grady came to stand beside me on the deck. Lila had tactfully wandered back inside, phone pressed to her ear, giving us the moment.
Madison continued to swing, singing a made-up song about apples and birds while Trevor looked at her with adoring eyes. Robbie was bent over, examining a dormant rose bush.
This house had a soul. This was home. I felt it in my bones. I pressed my face into his chest, happier than I’d ever thought possible. “I can finally host our weekly dinners.”
“Absolutely you can. Any time of the year.”
“Should we make an offer today?” Grady asked.
“Yes. Before someone else gets it,” I said.
“We’ll tell Lila to contact her realtor friend right away. We don’t want to wait.”
Regardless, for a few minutes, we remained on the deck, watching the waves crash to shore, breathing the crisp, salty air and dreaming our dreams.
I wanted to be married before we moved into the Driftwood Lane house. Call me old-fashioned, but it mattered to me that, when we walked through that front door as a family, it was official. We were a family.
We’d decided to keep it simple. Just us and the kids, down at the county clerk’s office on a Tuesday morning.
No fanfare, no guests, not even any flowers.
We’d have the real celebration in spring, when the garden was in bloom and we could fill our new backyard with everyone we loved.
But that was months away. Today was just about the four of us making it legal.
Well, five, counting Trevor.
The morning we went to the courthouse, Robbie came out of his room in his best khakis, his periodic table tie, and a white button-down. And, of course, his loafers.
“New shirt?” I asked.
“Grady got it for me,” Robbie said. “Isn’t it spiffy?”
“Very much so,” I said.
Madison was on the couch in her favorite pink dress, trying to get Trevor to hold still long enough for her to clip a bow tie to his collar. Trevor was enduring it the way he endured most things, with the patient resignation of a dog who had long ago accepted his fate.
Grady came out of the bathroom in the suit he’d worn to the Halloween party.
My stomach fluttered. “You look handsome.”
“You look beautiful,” he said. “Is that new?”
I looked down at my cream silk dress, simple, just above the knee. “Lila and I went shopping.” I flushed, feeling sheepish.
“Wait, do you mean you did as I suggested?” Grady asked, pulling me close.
Before we could get too carried away, Robbie cleared his throat. “I have an important matter to discuss.”
He walked to the kitchen table and set down a folder. We gathered around—Grady and me on one side, Madison climbing onto a chair on the other, Trevor sitting at our feet.
Robbie opened the folder and produced a neatly printed document, two pages long, stapled in the corner. The title, centered and bolded, read:
“What we’re about to do at the courthouse is a legal matter,” Robbie said. “But this is a family matter. And I believe the family agreement should come first. This family did not form in the traditional sequence. However, it formed intentionally.”
“What does that mean?” Madison asked, brow creasing.
“That we chose Grady to be part of our family,” Robbie said.
Madison grinned. “Oh, yeah, I understand now.”
Robbie began to read.
“We, the undersigned, enter into this agreement freely and without reservation. We promise the following:
Item one. ‘Love. We promise to love one another no matter what obstacles or hardships come our way.’
Item two. ‘Presence. We promise to show up to any event that’s important to a member of our family.
’ Examples are school events, science fairs, recitals, soccer games on television.
” Robbie stopped, looking over at Grady.
“I’ve become aware that in the past you’ve sacrificed watching soccer games so that I can watch a documentary.
In the future, I’ll be as generous as you have been. ”
“Thanks, bud. I appreciate it,” Grady said.
“Item three. ‘Family first. We promise to eat dinner together as often as possible, even when schedules are complicated.’” Robbie looked up.
“I didn’t say this specifically, but, on weekends, schedules permitting, we’ll have breakfast together too.
Either muffins or bagels are acceptable.
The data’s clear that families who share meals communicate better and experience higher rates of emotional well-being. ”
“I could have told you that,” I said.
“What about bacon?” Madison asked. “I love bacon.”
“Bacon is also acceptable, but not necessary for our agreement,” Robbie said.
“Okay, as long as you don’t forget,” Madison said.
“I never forget anything,” Robbie said, before continuing.
“Item four. ‘Laughter. We agree to laugh as much as possible, not at one another but with one another.’” He glanced up from his paper. “Laughter has been scientifically linked to reduced cortisol levels and strengthened bonds. Also, it’s simply enjoyable.”
“Amen,” I said.
“Item five. ‘Honesty. We will always tell the truth, even when it makes us feel afraid or vulnerable.’
Item six. ‘Loyalty. We promise to be loyal and protective of one another.’
Item seven. ‘Food quirks. We acknowledge that some members of the family have specific requests when it comes to food and agree to accommodate said family member when needed.’ An obvious one is grilled cheese sandwiches without crusts.”
“Got it,” Grady said.
“I should take a moment to thank you, Grady, for understanding this quirk of mine and being open to learning the Esme Taylor technique for grilled cheese.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for acknowledging that,” Grady said. “I feel seen.”
“I can see you,” Madison said.
“I see you too, Sweet Pea,” Grady said, chuckling.
“Item eight. ‘Courtesy. We agree to give advance notice of schedule changes or any deviance from our normal routine.’” Robbie hesitated for a second. “Obviously, this one’s for me too. Given my anxiety around change.”
“We’ll do our best,” Esme said. “But you must remember that some things are out of our control.”
“Duly noted,” Robbie said.
“And finally, item nine. ‘Gratitude. We promise to remember how grateful we are for family and to say it out loud often.’ Now, is there anything anyone would like to add to the list?”
“Yes,” I said. “Dreams. We agree to support one another’s dreams and goals without criticism or judgment.”
“Excellent, I’ll add that here at the bottom.” Robbie leaned over the paper, writing in number ten exactly as I’d said.
Madison raised her hand. “I have one. We can’t forget Trevor. We should promise to always remember that Trevor needs walks, kibble and a daily treat.”
“What would we call that?” Robbie asked.
“Caring?” Grady asked.
“Yes, that’s good.” Robbie wrote item eleven on to the list.
“Okay, let’s sign this bad boy.” Grady tapped his fingers against the table top. “We need to get down to the courthouse.”
“There’s a signature line at the bottom for each of us.” Robbie set his pen in the middle of the table.
Grady signed first, followed by me, despite the tears in my eyes. Madison took the pen and wrote her name in large, looping letters that took up the entire line and most of the margin. She dotted the i with a heart. Underneath her signature, she added in her best handwriting: And Trevor too.
Robbie examined it. “That’s not technically a legal signature from the dog.”
“Trevor doesn’t have thumbs,” Madison said. “So I signed for him.”
Robbie considered this. “I’ll allow it.”
He signed last. Then he gathered the document and placed it back in the folder. “Let’s go make this legal.”
And so we did.