“Nothing. She’s older than me.”
I lean down and look into her eyes. “That’s not the right attitude. You have the core responsibility as the caller to handle disputes. What would you say?”
She blinks. “I’d tell her that it’s just a game and in games there are winners and losers. Then I’d tell her to suck it up.”
“Hm,” I say and walk backward a few steps, still facing her. “That’s good advice. I’m going to use it on you now. Hey, kid, it’s just a game and in games there are winners and losers. Suck it up.”
She does not like me using her words against her. She foldsher arms and sulks while muttering something under her breath.
When we get to the redemption counter, a disinterested teenager doesn’t even look up from his phone to tell us, “Feed your tickets into the automatic counter over there and then bring me the receipt when you’re ready to cash it in.”
We do as we’re told and Emma is sore to learn her total is four thousand, while I have over twelve thousand. Nola adds her total to Emma’s but Emma is still short of what it takes to get a Squishmallow. All I know at this point in the night is we could’ve bought a whole Squishmallow army for what we’ve spent on the chance to redeem only one at the arcade.
“Hmm, which one is the best one?” I ask aloud to myself, rubbing the side of my face.
“The fox,” she says under her breath.
I hold the fox in my lap on the drive home.
Emma lugsher suitcase up the stairs and tells us she’s going to bed. Nola helps her get ready and comes outside twenty minutes later, dressed down in sweats and a hoodie. She finds me lying in the grass on top of a thick quilt in a corner of my backyard. I’ve started a fire in the firepit and it’s keeping this corner of the yard warm. A couple of stars have broken through the light pollution, and there’s a party a few houses down and the music they’re playing wafts this way.
Nola lies next to me and wiggles herself over to my outstretched arm. Her body molds against mine and she lets out a content sigh.“You have an odd approach to parenting.”
“Does it bother you the way I handled that?”
She shakes her head. “Not at all. It was nice to not have to deal with it for once.”
“You’d tell me if I did cross the line, though, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“My brain’s pretty tired from everything today, so I can’t think of a better adjective than fun, but today was more than fun,” I tell her.
“It was perfect.”
“After Colorado, I have this tiny gap of time before I’m supposed to be in L.A. I think I need to stop by and see Stella. Do I still have a room at your place?”
“I’ll see what I can do but it’s gonna cost you.”
“A changed lightbulb.”
“Bingo.”She chuckles and rolls onto her side, facing me. “Man, I love you.”
And there it is. My heart nearly explodes inside my chest from the sheer joy this brings me.I smile and tell her, “I love you.”
I mean those three words more than I’ve ever meant anything I’ve said, but this was not how I thought I’d say it. I know it’s not like a proposal where there is an expectation to the thought put behind the gesture, but I’ve had nothing but time lately and I’ve been waiting for the right moment to share those feelings.
I’d pictured it happening on a day when we don’t smell like a mix of cheap pizza, old arcade, and an undercurrent of ferry. Where we didn’t start with a ballgame and end with me making a tween mad. I will proudly be that kid’s bonus dad, but I wanted to tell her mom I loved her for the first time somewhere romantic. Nola deserves that and so much more. She shouldn’t have to hear it while lying on my childhood quilt as The Fly’s “Got You (Where I Want You)” gets cranked to top volume at the house party.
Now that we’ve said it, I tease, “You love me against your better judgment?”
She teases me right back. “Obviously.”
“Obviously?” I say in mock offense.
“Well, you’re a little difficult?—”
“I’m a Hutchings,” I clarify. “I’m certain if we’d been royal enough to warrant a family crest, that would’ve been our motto.”
