Seven Years Later
“Areyou going to be here tomorrow?”
“A little after noon, but we’ll be there, I promise.”
My friend looks over his shoulder. “They’ll be here. He promised.”
His daughter pops up on the screen, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s Christmas tomorrow!”
I smile at her. She’s a little version of her father—hair, face, and all. “I know. Did you send your letter to Santa?”
She enthusiastically nods. “Mm-hmm, I did.”
My friend shakes his head at me, a warning to not engage because his daughter is a talker. But I only see her so often, so I don’t mind. She spends the next ten minutes going over her list in detail until her mom tells her to get ready for bed.
“I tried to warn you.” He chuckles, taking a drink of whatever’s in his mug.
“I know but I don’t mind.” I shrug.
He stares at me for a beat. “So have you talked to Josie aboutyourChristmas list?”
I glance at the bathroom door. I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing. All she said was that we needed to come down to Carmel-by-the-Sea and that she had booked a hotel room. She’s currently getting ready, though I’m not sure why because it’s close to midnight, but I didn’t question her. I got ready and now I’m waiting for her.
I sit up against the bed’s headboard. “I threw hints, but I don’t want her to feel—” I glance at the door again. “Pressured. She’s got a lot going on.”
Josie and I have always been on the same wavelength regarding kids. We both want them, but we’ve been too busy with our careers to start having them.
Seven years ago, I was the first round second pick in the MLB draft to the Seattle Thunder. My life drastically changed, but so did Josie’s. On top of that, we had to do long distance for almost three years. She needed to finish school, had been working for the women’s swim team at MCU, and wanted to sell her house. She felt guilty letting go, but she knew it’s what she needed to do. When the house sold, I saw the last bit of hold her mom had on her being released.
Everything aligned not too long after that in Seattle. Now she’s the Assistant Coach for Seattle State University. Though Josie might move up to Associate Head Coach, but I’m not too sure. She doesn’t seem interested in it. Especially as of recently; she almost seems indifferent about it. I can’t understand why and when I ask, she brushes it off.
I know she’ll do what’s best for her, and I’ll support what she decides to do, but a while ago, she seemed excited about it. I don’t know what changed, but I’m trying not to worry. We’ve been very big about communicating, so I know whatever’s going on, she’ll tell me eventually.
“You know, you can always babysit our kids whenever you want. Hell, if you want to keep them for a year or two, they’re allyours. You won’t hear me complaining. I know their mom won’t either.” He takes another drink. “Having them might make you not want to have them. Let me tell you, they fight, they’re messy—forget having a clean home. That’s nonexistent. Don’t get me started on how boundaries don’t exist to them. They follow me every-fucking-where. I can’t eat or do anything in peace.” He rolls his eyes, groaning like it’s such an inconvenience to him, but I know he loves being a dad.
There are people who are parents and then there are people who aremadeto be parents. My friend is the latter.
“But they’re cute as shit.” I think of all the pictures and videos he’s sent me of his kids.
“Yeah, they really are, aren’t they?” He beams with pride.
The bathroom door swings open and Josie steps out. “Ready, Garcia?”
A burst of adrenaline rushes through my body at seeing my wife.
As soon as she moved to Seattle, I proposed and a year later, we got married. I would’ve proposed a lot sooner, but I knew I needed to take things slow. She was still figuring herself out, and while I was too, I knew she was it for me. But for the sake of not rushing or overwhelming her, I took it slow, and the wait was honestly worth it.
“Ready, Jos.” I turn the screen, letting the two greet each other and then promise to call him when we’re on our way before I hang up. “So where are we going?”
“You’ll know very soon.” She flashes me a small, tentative smile and intertwines my fingers with hers. She tugs me out of the room and down to our car.
Josie doesn’t let me drive, and on the drive to wherever we’re going, she’s oddly quiet.
“Everything okay?” I play with the ring on her fingers that are slightly clammy.
“Yeah, everything’s okay.” She drums her fingers on the steering wheel, almost like she’s nervous, which is so unlike her.
Something doesn’t feel right, but I don’t prod. I know this time of the year is as strange for her as it is for me. Her mom passing and this being Adrian’s favorite holiday never fails to make us both feel sad. Though over the years, it’s become easier to enjoy. And that’s better than dreading, feeling empty, and wanting to hide in the bleak darkness.
