“I don’t know everything you’ve been through with losing Marissa and being a single parent, but to see you happy and thriving, son, it gives me no greater joy.”
The three years of my life without Marissa felt like they passed in slow motion. A nonstop loop of unending sadness. The only saving grace to propel me through each day was Brax and Tate. Without them, I’m not sure I’d be standing here today. Not that I would’ve taken my life, but a broken heart is a real thing. Mine was beyond broken, and I’m pretty sure my body would’ve succumbed to the misery.
“How are you doing, Uncle?” I ask, seeing a few more deep lines near his eyes since the last time I saw him.
He and my father seem to be aging at a ridiculously slow rate. It’s like they have superhuman genes that move at a snail’s pace. They both have gray splashes in their hair but haven’t turned fully. The lines near their eyes have grown deeper over the years, but the rest of their faces have remained wrinkle-free.
“Life couldn’t be better, kid.” The corner of his mouth curves up. “My kids are grown, so many grandkids I can barely keep count, and I have Maria by my side. What more can a man ask for?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
I try to picture my life in thirty years when Brax and Tate have children of their own, but it’s hard for me to imagine them any older than they are now.
My heart aches at the thought of them someday leaving me and moving on with their lives. I wonder if every parent feels that way or if I’m just more attached to my children because of the loss we’ve endured.
“Enjoy the time you have with them now.” His eyes move to Brax and Tate as they chase each other through the backyard. “They grow up too fast.”
“I can’t imagine them not being around every day.”
Uncle Sal snorts. “By the time the hormones kick in, you’ll be counting the days until they leave for college. Trust me.” He squeezes my shoulder. “I think it’s the big man’s plan to make the transition less painful for us. Make the teenagers as moody and difficult as possible so we’re thankful when the big day comes.”
“I’m not looking forward to those years,” I mutter, bringing my gaze back to my two rambunctious kids.
“No one does.”
Joe walks in our direction, coming to stand next to me. He tips his head, taking a long, slow slug of his beer. He’s quiet. Nothing new for him. He’s a man of very few words, just like me.
“What’s wrong, son?” Uncle Sal asks, filling the silence.
“Fuckin’ Gigi,” Joe mumbles against the rim of the bottle. “She’s going to be the death of me.”
Uncle Sal barks out a laugh. “See?” He looks at me and then to Joe. “Teenagers.”
Joe lets out a long sigh. “Worst kind of humans in the world.”
The smile doesn’t leave Uncle Sal’s face. “That boy still being a dipshit?” He raises an eyebrow, staring at his son.
Joe’s hand tightens around the bottle until his knuckles turn white. “That boy tests my patience, and if he doesn’t let up, I’m going to end up in jail.”
“She’ll be graduating soon, heading off to college, and forget all about him,” his father tells him.
“The more I hate this punk, the more she likes him,” Joe grumbles before taking another sip.
“That’s how it works, son. If you really want him to go away, bring him into the fold. Tell her how much you’ve grown to like him, and she’ll dump his ass so fast.” Uncle Sal laughs softly. “Always worked with Izzy.”
My head spins, thinking about Tate dating. Someday, I’ll have to watch my daughter walk out the door to go on her first date and know exactly what’s on that boy’s mind. The very thought of her being alone with a boy who wants nothing more than to get in her pants sends a chill down my spine.
“Kill ’em with kindness?” Joe asks with a tight smile.
“’Cause you can’t kill them any other way,” I say, letting out a pained laugh.
“Just you wait, cousin. You think shit gets easier, but the problems, along with the tantrums, amplify as they grow up.”
I nod. “I can imagine.”
Joe runs a hand across his forehead, staring across the yard at his daughter, who’s busy on her phone. “I found a G-string in her laundry the other day.”
I raise my eyebrows, and Uncle Sal’s face hardens. Neither of us was expecting those words to come out of Joe’s mouth.
