"Melody, do you remember my brother, Brody? Brody, this is Melody Quinn. In any case, it’s been enough time that Melody wouldn’t recognize you with the beard you won’t shave." As if it must be some family joke, Brody smooths the beard between his fingers and grins.
"Where’s Hannah?" Brett asks.
No sooner from the name slipping out of his mouth does the door thrash open. "Dad, I’m going to be late. Let’s go," she snaps.
Those are some strong family genes there. Hannah was graced with the good-looks from her father and Brett, but by the dark glint in her eyes, she must have the attitude of a typical tween girl. I’m guessingshe must be ten or eleven.
Brody glances down at his watch and shakes his head. "Wow, it’s been a whole fifteen seconds since I left the truck, and I’m already in trouble." The sarcasm is clear.
Brett squats down in front of Parker and sweeps a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "It’s time to go with Uncle Brody to school, kiddo."
Parker brushes the crumbs for her muffin onto the napkin and throws her trash away. She then grabs her backpack and wraps her arms around Brett, pressing her cheek into his side. "Love you, Dad."
"Love you too, sweetie." Brett leans down and places a kiss on her head, then helps her slip the straps of her backpack over her shoulders. "How do you spell: timely?"
As Parker walks toward Hannah, she spells out: "T-I-M ... E-L-Y"
"You will ace the spelling quiz today, I know it!"
"I hope so," she says, crossing her fingers.
"I’ll quiz her on the way to school," Hannah offers.
"Thanks, Hannah-Banana," Brett teases.
Hannah stops dead in her tracks and turns toward Brett. "No," she snaps. "We’ve been over this."
Brett holds up his hands in defense. "My bad."
"Is she too young to give coffee? I feel like it could help this morning moodiness," Brody says.
"I think she’s too young," I tell him.
"I thought so." I won’t inform him her attitude will probably get worse as she gets older, but I’m sure he’ll figure it out on his own.
Brody takes the girls out of the shop, and now it’s just Brett and me, shuffling around. I have no real agenda of what I should or could do here to help, but I also know I need to get going, and I’m stalling.
"I have everything under control here," he says. "I promise."
"I know you do.” I’m just stalling as I straighten a bottle on the shelf.
"Go to the hospital, and when you need a break, take one break. It’s a lot, and you have to be easy on yourself."
"Thanks for the advice.”
"I can bring you guys dinner again tonight if you like?"
"You have a lot going on, I’m sure. You don’t have to worry about us too, but I appreciate the offer."
I’ve been holding my phone with a death grip as if the grim reaper will make my phone ring at any given moment, but Brett reaches out and takes the phone from my hand, turns it around, holds it in front of my face so the facial recognition unlocks and taps his fingers on the screen. Within seconds his phone rings. "I have your number, and you have mine. I figured you still hadn’t added it to your phone," he says with a coy wink. "Call me if you need anything, please."
"I will," I agree, with a slight nod.
"I will check up on you later."
"Thanks for trying to be a friend. I don’t have many people in my life who would care so much aside from my immediate family."
"Well, I know life can be a jerk sometimes. We all need to know someone cares, right?"
