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“And you’re grumpy.”

“Not as much anymore,” I lower my voice.

She matches the softness with her response. “That’s true.”

“And neither are you.”

Somebody down the street sings along to the final chorus of the song and we burst into exhausted, happy giggles. There’s no way I ever want to do life with anybody but her.

The next morning,after Belgium Waffles for the kid and breakfast skillet for the adults at Bocco Café, I walk Nola and Emma to their gate at SeaTac Airport. Emma dragged down our pacing, having to stop and look for some new gum Reese says is the most important flavor invention of their fifth-grade lives, and now I’m cutting it so close to making it to my own plane on time. The chartered flights are down by the international terminal, across the airport from domestic commercial flights. I slide my backpack off and pull out a sore subject.

Emma’s eyes light up at the familiar fox. “I knew you’d give it to me! You’re not a monster.”

“Nice try.” I hold it above her head where she can’t reach. “This is still mine, but he gets scared when I’m gone andneeds you to take care of him. I’ll come check on him Thursday night, okay?”

“We get to see you again next week?” she asks excitedly.

I’m happy to be forgiven. “Yep. Can you take care of him for me?”

“Yes!” she reaches up and gets hold of his little foot. “I’m going to name him?—”

“He has a name. It’s Ben Franklin,” I tell her and Nola snort-laughs. “It’s my favorite name in the whole world, so don’t you try to change it.”

Emma pretends to be put out but she hugs the stuffed fox and says, “Got it.”

With her occupied, I turn my attention to Nola. “And as for you . . . I hate this.”

“Me too.”

“We’ll have to figure out some way for you to work and be my groupie this summer. I know you can’t make every away series, but maybe some of them?” I’m hopeful.

“I love you,” she says and pulls me in. Everything and everybody around us disappears. For a couple of brief seconds, time slows and I have the knowledge I can face anything in the world, knowing I have her by my side.

We’re interrupted by a woman’s voice broadcasting over the airport speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, would SeaTac passenger Maxford Hutchings please meet his party in the designated gathering area? Your teammate, Mr. Larsen, says he knows it’s hard for an old man, such as yourself, to do, but you need to run.”

27

NOLA

“Are you on the phone with Max?” Emma looks over my shoulder to see his face on my screen. “Why aren’t you two talking?”

I’m sitting at the kitchen bar, my paper calendar open next to me. For over an hour, I’ve been transferring things to my shared Google calendar with Callie so she and I can be on the same page. I still don’t agree this is better than my preferred method of handwriting life’s expectations of my time with a smooth Pilot G-2 pen into a spiral-bound book. Darn Max for challenging me to give up some power. Darn Callie for insisting technology is not only the now but the future.

She’s right, of course, but I’ll have the last laugh when everything digital crashes and I still turn up at the dentist on time thanks to my trusty system. With summer a handful of weeks away and so many possibilities on the horizon, I’ve agreed to Callie’s suggestion (for now) and have been tediously going back and forth between the two calendars.

“Hi, kid,” Max says. “I called a minute ago and your momneeded to concentrate and finish transferring the week she’s been working on, so I’m on hold.”

“She’s so old,” Emma laughs like she’s given me a major burn.

“I know!” Max agrees and my lips lift despite their ganging up against me. I input the book’s notes for the last Friday of that month and close my laptop for the time being.

“I’m back.” I look at him and pretend to push Emma out of the way.

“Hey! That’s not very nice.” She leans back into the frame. “Max, you get in soon, right?”

“Yeah, I’m getting ready to board my plane in a few.”

“Tomorrow we’re doing a running day at school. I signed up to do three miles. Want to come watch?”