42. Kendall #2
And while we’re on the subject, here are some other things you should know about our family.
Your mom and I met while fighting over a cupcake.
She might’ve thought I would’ve done anything to get that damn cupcake, but in reality, I just wanted to talk to her.
I saw her the second I walked into that party with two heavy bags of ice gripped in my hands, and all I wanted to do was talk to her.
I wanted to see her smile and tell her how beautiful she is.
I don’t think I got to tell her that the first time we met, but I got around to it.
And she really is so beautiful. Her brown hair feels like silk when I run my hands through it, and I love when her cheeks flush every time I breathe in her shampoo.
I love the smell of it. It smells like apples, but not like the artificial kind.
Like the ones we get straight from the produce section at the grocery store.
Her eyes are out of this world. They’re brown, but not just brown.
When the sun hits them, especially at dusk, I see specks of gold in them.
When she smiles, they shimmer, and I could get lost in them forever.
But what I love most about her is how deeply she loves.
I don’t think she knows this about her, but she loves so hard.
She loves with her whole heart. She doesn’t love with her words, but through everything she does for the people she loves.
Through the care she takes in making our house a home.
She fills the soap dispensers with scented soap, the kind she knows I like.
She buys Sophia her favorite ice cream when she doesn’t even ask for it, and when she wants dessert, it’s just there, in the freezer, and Sophia gets so excited that her mommy knows her so well.
She brings my mom her favorite lotions because she’s always using it when she comes over to our house.
She remembers to leave my coffee cup under the Keurig machine after she’s done brewing her own cup of coffee.
She remembers which towels are my favorite and what kind of toothpaste I prefer.
She knows how to fold my clothes even though she’s tried to teach me how to do it by myself.
She does it in this way I can’t seem to master, and my shirts never wrinkle.
She loves with her whole heart. She doesn’t do it on purpose.
She just loves because of who she is, and that’s what I love most about her.
Our life isn’t perfect. Not by a mile. But it’s our life.
Mommy and Sophia make me so incredibly happy, and I wouldn’t change a thing about us.
I wouldn’t change how we got here. I don’t regret a single thing. Not even you.
Love,
Daddy
“Mommy!”
I don’t know when I started crying, but the tears are landing on the keyboard in quiet splats. I know I only have a minute before Sophia comes bounding up the stairs in search of me, so I quickly wipe at my cheeks, swiping away the evidence of what I just read.
“Kendall?”
“I’ll be right down,” I call over my shoulder.
I quietly close my laptop and slide it away from me.
I pad over to the door, taking one last glance at the owl, and I know this isn’t the kind of goodbye I was expecting.
I’m not letting go of the first few chapters of our lives.
Instead, I’m looking back on it, flipping through the pages while smiling fondly.
I pad down the stairs, welcomed by the sounds of excitement coming from the kitchen. When I walk toward the noise, I’m greeted by the commotion of Sophia and James unpacking their grocery store finds.
“Mommy!” Sophia shrieks. “I made Daddy buy us some cookies! And he said we can have them for dessert.”
“I said you can have them for dessert if you finish your dinner,” James interjects. He was putting something away in the fridge, and he pops his head out to correct Sophia. He catches sight of me, and his rebuke vanishes when he sees me.
“Hi,” I tell him.
“Hey.” He leans forward, placing a swift peck on my cheek and returns to his task at hand.
Sophia toys with the box of cookies, like she’s contemplating sneaking one without her dad noticing, and I start to help with the groceries.
I pick up a jar of mayonnaise, placing it in the pantry cupboard.
I gather the grocery bags, folding them neatly to stow away until they’re used for trash or other repurposed uses.
When James is done, he turns to me and squeezes my arm.
“You hungry? You want some lunch?”
I nod, but I don’t elaborate. I don’t tell him what I want to eat or suggest a plate of reheated leftovers. Instead, I smile at him.
“What?” he asks when he’s met with silence.
“Nothing,” I say. Because it’s really nothing.
It’s like he said. Our life isn’t perfect, but it’s our life.
I know I still need time for myself. I also know I’m going to go through so many ups and downs, and I may always be the way I am.
And we’re going to have to keep working at things not only because our marriage needs work, but because we want to.
And I can’t wait for it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together.
“Would you be mad if I wanted the cookies for lunch?” I whisper, making sure Sophia is out of earshot.
“You’re going to have to eat them in the pantry because there is no way in hell I am backing down from her,” he says, pointing a cautious finger in the direction of our daughter still pawing at the cookies.
I laugh. “Only if you promise not to tell.”
“Scout’s honor,” he says, miming a zipper closing his lips. “How about I distract her, and you stuff as many cookies as you can in your mouth in…three minutes.”
“Three minutes?”
“Do you not know who we’re dealing with?” he asks, jerking his head to the side, covertly referring to the apparent warden of our home.
“Can’t even eat cookies in our home,” I comment. “In our home that we pay for, by the way.”
“When did we become this?” he says, feigned discontent evident in the playful shake of his head.
“I think around the time she wrapped you around her tiny pinky.”
He chuckles, his laugh dissolving into a sigh as he leans down to kiss me. “Can you blame me?”
“Nope,” I admit.
“You now have two minutes and forty-two seconds,” he says, a taunting bounce in his eyebrows. He dashes off, scooping Sophia into his arms as he distracts her. Giggles fill the air, and I don’t even bother with the cookies.