Chapter 22 #2
“I'm going to be a grandma,” she spits out and falls into another fit of laughter.
I look at Tanner confused, and he stabs his thumb over his shoulder toward the sheep. “Looks like Ava might be pregnant.”
“How?”
“It turns out Poppy is going to be a father.”
There’s no fighting the laughter that bubbles up. I don’t even know if what I'm laughing at is Poppy being a boy, Winnie being a grandma, or these two red cheeked golden retrievers’ laughter.
“I don’t understand. How did you not know it was a boy?”
“The lady dropped them off and said two females. I didn’t think to check.” He shrugs.
“Sounds like Poppy needs a new name,” I say to Winnie and a part of me is relieved at the development.
“Maybe another plant name?” Tanner asks and Winnie's eyebrows pinch together in thought. “Or a name from a tv show you like?”
Winnie considers this for a moment. “Eric. We will name him Eric.”
“Eric and Ava, it is.” Tanner nods without a single question. “How about we play cards on the deck.”
“Before the sun blows out?” Winnie asks and takes Tanner's hand.
“Yeah.” He smiles down at her. “Before the sun blows out.”
We go in to get the cards, and Tanner stops the moment he steps into the now mostly clean kitchen.
“Did you do all of this?”
“The chickens helped,” I tease.
I don’t argue when he reaches over and presses his lips onto the top of my head with a thank you before digging around the junk drawer for the Uno cards.
I also don’t argue when he gives the side of my butt a little tap as he passes me toward the front deck.
My feet grow roots right into the wood beneath me as I watch him go with the rules flying out the door with him.
“Come on, Mom,” Winnie calls through the screen door.
When my brain and feet reconnect, I follow them out to the deck and find Tanner in one rocking chair, with Winnie on his knee, the chair opposite them empty. The cards are shuffled and passed out. Winnie’s little hands struggle to clasp them.
“Careful,” he warns playfully. “I can see your cards.”
Winnie pulls them into her chest and laughs.
For the entire game, in fact, that’s all we do.
We laugh when Winnie inevitably shows us her cards, or when Tanner gets hit with another draw four.
Or when I lose my Uno to a house rule that says if you forget to say Uno you have to pick up the whole stack of discarded cards plus everyone’s yellow cards.
And every time Winnie confuses the nine and six cards.
I end the first game with thirty-two cards, Tanner loses to Winnie, and I don’t win until the third round when Winnie effectively falls asleep in Tanner's arms and I drop the rest of my cards down, claiming a false victory.
Tanner shakes his head, as he rocks the sleeping child in his lap. “I am telling her as soon as she wakes up.”
For a while we sit there in a comfortable silence looking out over his land, my daughter snoring in his arms, and my heart growing a million sizes at the sight of it all.
The only sounds are the wind chimes and creaking of wood boards beneath our rocking chairs.
And I think the real world wouldn’t know where to find us if they had to come looking.
Before we outstay our welcome, I push up. “We should get out of your hair. It’s almost her bedtime.”
“I got her.” He stands with her secure in his arms and she snuggles into his chest.
I can’t ignore the way it makes me feel watching him carry her.
The comfort she finds in his arms because I get it.
Once he buckles her in and slides the door shut, he turns to me, grabs my keys from my hand, and leans against my door.
He threads his fingers through my lanyard and doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“The carnival is coming to town, and so is the famer’s market,” he tells me. I know he’s just dragging out our goodbye and delaying our departure, but I’m in no rush to leave either.
“Winnie would love both of those.”
He nods, and I can sense there is more he wants to say.
“Are you doing a stand at the farmer’s market?” I ask.
His eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean are you going to sell your flowers? People would go crazy for them.”
“I'm not in the habit of making anyone else go crazy over them.”
I tilt my head. “Just try it. I think you’ll do well.”
He nods and hands my keys back to me but doesn’t move from my door.
“If you’re trying to make me break my own rule to get you to move—”
“No.” He shakes his head and pushes off the door. “I just wanted to look at you.”
“That’s rule two. That’s giving me a compliment.”
“Nope. I'm just telling you what I'm doing. There are no rules about stating my actions out loud. Also, it’s worth stating— no, don’t look at me like that. It’s true and I’m serious, I may have ulterior motives, but you are hands down the most beautiful person I have ever seen.
Statistically, logistically, I don’t know.
I didn’t go to college, but I just need you to know that. ”
“Thank you,” I swallow over the lump in my throat and blink away the burning of tears.
“Don’t thank me. It’s a categorical observation. It has nothing to do with my opinion. It’s a fact. However, this is an instance where my opinion happens to line up with the facts.”
He moves and opens my door, then hovers there.
“Text me when you make it home,” he says quietly. “I’ll call Winnie in the morning to tell her that her mom cheats at Uno. Also, a categorical fact.”
I shake my head and back away from the house, already missing what could have been before I even got it.