Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lemon
“She’s touching me again!” Bryar snaps.
“Ow!” Poppy shoves back. “I wouldn’t touch you if you would just move your arm two centimeters to the right, but you’re being selfish.”
“You wouldn’t need two extra centimeters if you would stop scribbling in that notebook and look up at the world.”
“Maybe the world has too many bratty older sisters who think they’re God’s gift to humanity in it, and I’d rather sketch a better one.”
“Dad!”
“Snacks anyone?” Oliver opens the glove compartment when all I can offer him in support is a look of pure shock. Over-stimulation is an understatement. All four of these girls in one car for hours on end?
This is going to be a long ride.
But then…silence.
“Thanks, Daddy.” Cami sighs happily, chewing her granola bar. “Me and Kimmie’s bellies were talking to each other they were so grumbly.”
“You’re welcome, Two-Bits.” Oliver smiles, watching them from the rearview mirror. A sense of happiness warms my heart as I watch them, too.
“That was a neat trick,” I offer. The first words I’ve spoken to him since last night.
“Thanks. One learns over time.”
“I suppose one does.”
We travel in silence for minutes on end while the girls’ mouths are busy filling their bellies. We left just before sunrise, and finally, the light peeks its way above the mountain, pinks and reds, orange and purple, and every other color of life radiating from one common point.
It’s beautiful.
“Are you crying?” Oliver whispers, nudging me with his hand.
I grab it.
“No.”
“Liar.” He flicks on the radio with our palms still joined and fingers twined. It’s a step from last night. One to show him I’m still in this. I just need him to be, too.
My mouth wants to smile. My brain practically commands it, but my heart trembles so fast I can’t ignore the warning.
Violin music plays from the speakers, a classical station, and I feel his fingers tap the back of my hand. “You make me want to play a song,” he says softly.
We share a secret smile.
“Then play.”
“Change the station, Dad,” Bryar groans, slicing through the sentiment. Kids. We share a laugh about it as Oliver winks to the girls in the rearview and blasts the volume even higher.
“Daaaaddduuuh! You always make us listen to this boring orchestra stuff.”
“It’s good for your character,” I say, whipping around in my seat. “And it is not boring, Bryar Elaine. It’s classical.” I wink at her and Poppy before turning back around in my seat, and they giggle at my dad impression as Oliver rolls his eyes.
“Fine,” he concedes. “What’ll it be?”
“Rock,” Poppy calls.
“Boo! Country!” Cami yells. “We want country.
“Great.” Bryar turns around. “We all want different stations, so Dad’s just gonna put it back on his old man music like last time we couldn’t pick. Nice going, Twinnie the Poo.”
“Nuh uh!” Cami sticks out her tongue, crossing her arms over her chest. “Kimmie wants country, too, so that’s two against you. We’re the majority.”
“You don’t even know what that word means.”
“Do to. We learned in social studies.”
“Dad,” Bryar whines, “tell her it doesn’t count. She always just makes up Kimmie’s vote, anyway. Kim, do you want country? Sign yes if you do.”
Kimmie just purses her lips at Cami.
“Fine.” Cami rolls her eyes at her twin. “Kimmie says she doesn’t care.”
“What about we sing a song?” I offer, totally out of my element with the parent thing. But Oliver is calm and collected, like he is on tour. This is his thing, being prepared and reliable.
It’s why my spontaneity throws him off.
The kids laugh at my song idea, but Oliver’s got it covered, like everything else today.
“How about the newest Shaylyn Tryst track?”
He holds up his phone, and the car blows into a million pieces.
Just kidding.
It doesn’t blow up. But the screams are almost glass-shattering.
“How?” Poppy gasps.
“It’s not supposed to be out until next month!” Cami squeals.
“Let’s just say your nanny here is a very persuasive businesswoman. She signed Shaylyn Tryst to Perkins Records last night, and her sound designer sent us these sample tracks this morning. It’s not the final version, though. You guys probably won’t like it…” He grins.
“Dad!” they collectively scream while I giggle profusely.
We laugh as one, even Kimmie.
It feels…
“Happy,” a small voice says from the back.
We all pause, sharing a single thread of energy, feeling the same miracle fall as light as a feather.
“Yeah.” Cami sniffles from her side, a wide grin and soft tears falling from her tiny eyes. “Me, too, Kim.” She signs something to her sister, and they link pinkies. “Happy.”
“Happy!” Bryar shouts through her tears.
“Happy!” we all shout.
A tear rolls down Oliver’s cheek, too, and when he squeezes my hand, despite my trembling heart, I squeeze it back.
Happy.