“You want to go to bed without supper?” Dad asked.
“No, sir,” I replied humbly.
“Then less yapping and more cutting.”
I glanced up to see him grinning from ear to ear, and it helped ease the ache in my heart whenever I saw how weak he’d grown over the past few weeks. Jack got ribbed for not being able to handle a screwdriver properly when he fixed the screen door on the side of the house, and Dad teased me after I nearly tripped over my own feet when a snake slithered out from under the porch.
“Haven’t outgrown that, huh?” he asked.
“No, he hasn’t,” Maegan said, stepping onto the porch carrying a tray with three glasses of iced tea on it. “Did Elijah tell you about our recent hike in the woods, Jack?”
“No, he didn’t,” Dad said, patting the rocking chair beside him. “And call me Dad.” I couldn’t hear Maegan’s soft voice, but I knew the instant she told Dad about my bellowing the word snake like the dumb jock you know will be the first to die in a horror movie.
I was so fucking grateful when Daphne finally arrived with my nephews. All joking aside, I couldn’t wait to toss the football with them in the yard. Both boys played peewee football with seasons starting soon. Maegan and I had talked about coming to as many of their games as we could fit into our schedule.
I pretended to go down easy when they ganged up and tackled me. Okay, I didn’t have to pretend much because I was sore all over from climbing the ladder and working around the yard. It was the absolute best kind of ache because I could look around and see the fruits of my labor. When we went inside to wash up for supper, I was overwhelmed with the scents I associated with home—cinnamon, apples, and fresh bread. It smelled like love.
“You look beat,” Maegan said, stepping into the bathroom just as I was drying my hands. She closed the door and walked into the circle of my arms.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hearing her sniffle against my shirt.
“I broke the news to your mom that I wouldn’t be bringing any little Elijah’s into the world.”
“Freckles, I should’ve told her months ago.” I held her tighter, rocking her back and forth. I wanted to believe my mom was caring and compassionate when she heard the news, and Maegan’s tears had nothing to do with something Mom said.
“No, I’m glad you didn’t so I could judge her reaction for myself. Now, I won’t have to wonder if she’s just making nice to cover her disappointment.”
“Maegan, you couldn’t disappoint anyone if you tried.” I tilted her head back and looked into the face I adored with everything I had. “What did she say?”
“It wasn’t what she said so much as the look on her face,” Maegan told me. “Her eyes and smile were filled with compassion and love, not pity and disappointment. Then she said, ‘Thank God your treatments worked, and we’re standing here together.’ Then she told me biology didn’t always make a family which reminded me of how you’d said there was more than one way to become a mother. It reminded me how lucky I am.”
“These are happy tears then?” I asked, brushing them away with my thumbs. “I admit I haven’t learned to read tears as well as I thought, and before you get sassy with me, women’s tears should be classified as a language all their own.”
Maegan giggled then buried her head against my chest. “I love you, Pooh Bear.”
I groaned. “Really, Freckles. That’s what you’re going to call me? Not something representing my manly prowess?”
“I prefer to think about your cuddliness, and I don’t want other women to be thinking about your ‘manly prowess.’ I’m a bit of a cavewoman myself, Pooh Bear.”
“You’re telling me to get used to the silly name.”
“That’s what I’m telling you.”
“Okay,” I said, looking into her eyes. “I’ll put up with just about anything for you, but don’t abuse my soft heart when it comes to you.”
“Never,” she replied, crossing her heart.
We were the last ones to enter the dining room, and I felt curious eyes volleying between us as we made our way to the table. It was obvious Maegan had been crying, and everyone besides Mom thought I was to blame.
“Do I need to take him back behind the woodshed, Freckles?” Dad asked.
Maegan giggled and leaned into me where I sat beside her at the table. “We weren’t fighting, Dad. These are tears of joy, not sorrow.” I thought it was only partially true, but I wasn’t about to argue with her. “I’m such a lucky girl to have all of you in my life.”
“I think we’re the lucky ones,” I told her.
Dinner was a delicious beef stew and homemade rolls with homemade applesauce that was still warm, just how I liked it.
“I will never be able to eat applesauce from a jar again,” Maegan said in awe after her first bite. “The process was easier than I thought it would be too.”
