Chapter 44 Scott - How You Remind Me
SCOTT: HOW YOU REMIND ME
“Mark, stop licking yourself,” I called, raising my voice to compete with the waterfall.
“Scott, I beg you,” Michelle whispered, horrified, as I waded us through the shallows. “We have nosy neighbors.”
“That’s the point of naming the dog Mark. If I can’t interact with my neighbors like a normal person, I’ll find another way.”
“By making them think we have men wandering the property pleasuring themselves?”
“Michelle, he’s my dog. I’ll embarrass him however I see fit.”
“Well,” she said, tightening her legs around my waist, her voice dropping sexy low, “if we’re already giving the neighbors a show, we might as well make it worth their binoculars.”
Challenge fucking accepted.
I carried her straight into the shadow of the rocky grotto and pressed her back against the cool stone, mouth already on her neck when—
“Mom? Dad?” Quinn called from the house. “I touched something, and now it’s making a beeping noise.”
“Do not respond,” I warned.
“He’s our child.”
“And if he were injured, absolutely. But for a beep? Hard no.”
“You know he’s going to come looking for us.”
“I’ve hidden us well, Gold Coast. Now I believe we were just about to—”
I’d barely lowered my lips to her neck again when buzzkill Quinn ambushed us from behind the rocks. We all jumped in a synchronized group panic.
He stared for half a second, then visibly regretted it. “Gross.”
An urgent dishwasher repair followed, consisting entirely of me pushing the off button.
On my way back outside, carefully transporting two hastily assembled margaritas, I asked my remaining freeloaders, Quinn and Grace, “How much will it cost me to have thirty minutes alone in the pool with your mother?”
“I’ll be quiet for Panda Express,” Grace offered.
Bless her, so easy.
“Hold on,” Quinn said, pausing his game. “Is this a quiet thirty minutes? Because that’s gonna cost more.”
“How much more?”
“Panda and Baskin-Robbins. And you throw in the good sprinkles. The colorful ones. None of that chocolate-only garbage.”
“You’re ruthless.” I backed toward the patio like a dump truck in reverse. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
I made eye contact with both of them. “And remember, if either one of you interrupts us, there better be blood.”
“Now, where were we?” I asked, wading back into the pool with the drinks.
“You were yelling at Mark not to lick his nards,” Michelle reminded.
“No. After that.”
“After that, Quinn ruined the moment. You’re cut off.”
“I’d like to appeal that decision,” I said, handing her a drink as I eased down beside her on the lounge chair carved into the shallow end. Late afternoon sun poured over us, its rays warming our skin.
This was the life. And Michelle had given it up? For me? I still didn’t know what miracle had convinced her to walk away from the life of luxury she’d been born into, but every day I woke up grateful she had.
Michelle angled her face toward the sun, eyes closed. “I didn’t realize how loud our life was at the old place until right now.”
“I mean, sure, if you like peace and privacy,” I said.
That was when the engine noise crept in.
We both opened our eyes as a Map to the Stars sightseeing bus crawled past, visible above the hedge-lined security fence—its bright pink paint, white angel wings, and diesel exhaust wildly out of place in this upscale neighborhood.
Then the speaker crackled.
“Okay, Angels, if you’ll look to your right, this house was recently purchased by none other than Jake McKallister.”
Michelle hid behind her hands, laughing.
“Oh, good,” I said, sinking lower in the water. “I was worried no one knew where we lived.”
“We’re going to need your guy to stop trimming those hedges.”
The bus rolled on, the noise fading with it, and the quiet rushed back in.
Michelle turned toward me, eyes widening, her mouth parting. “Oh, my god!”
“What?”
“Scott.” Her eyes searched mine, wide and bright. “We’re living it.”
“Living what?”
“Your promise.” She grabbed my arm like she needed to anchor herself to the moment. “Our anniversary. That night in the booth when I asked you if our lives would ever feel normal again.”
I smiled, the words coming back easily. “I said I could picture us sitting by a pool somewhere tropical, sipping margaritas, living the dream.”
“And you said our kids would be happy and healthy, with lives of their own.”
“I was mostly just lying through my teeth.”
“Well, you sounded sure. You made me believe. I held on through all of it… for this.”
I followed her gaze to the house that no longer felt like a temporary shelter but a home we were meant to grow old in.
Our reward for surviving. No, for getting our boy through.
I smiled at my wife, at the woman who’d once said there was no one she’d rather suffer with, and how impressively consistent we’d been.
“Look at us,” she said. Beneath the water, her hand found mine like muscle memory. “From the opossum apartment to this.”
“Yeah… about that.” I paused for effect. “Would this be a good time to tell you that you killed Zonk?”
The End