In less than three minutes, the new screen is installed. Itake my time inspecting it, making sure it’s sturdy and any feline explorers won’t easily dislodge it. I’m being unnecessarily thorough, but I know no matter how long we stay, the girls will feel it’s not enough. I also know I’m not ready to go, so why not give us a few more minutes?
“Window should be all set. Anything else I can help with?” I glance around, hoping to see something that requires my time and attention.
She gives her cat a stern look and says, “Be nice, Mr. Bingley,” before walking to me. It’s a small space and I’ve been in here a thousand times over the last few years. We visited May all the time. But having this woman move with purpose in my direction sends a pulse of awareness through me.
“Would you guys want to stay to watch a movie? I was just going to make some popcorn.” She gestures to her counter where, sure enough, a large bowl and a box of popcorn packets sit.
In an effort to seem slightly less eager than I am, I defer to the girls. “What do you think, girls? Do you want to stay and watch a movie?”
Poppy instantly cheers. “Yes! Yay!”
The cat bolts under Sam’s bed, and Poppy crawls over, undeterred by the relocation.
Lily’s watching Poppy, but then gives me a skeptical look. “What movie would it be?”
“I put all my DVDs in the cabinet the TV’s on. Go see if you can find something you like.” Sam points to the wooden hutch the TV sits on.
Lily looks perplexed, and I chuckle.
“Did I say something weird?”
I see the way she shrinks up. It’s subtle, but clear as dayto me now that I’ve spent some time with her, and I don’t want her to go there.
One palm presses gently into her arm where it’s crossed over her other and tucked close to her body. “No, not at all. It’s just, they don’t really know what DVDs are. Everything’s streaming now.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks brighten, but she laughs with me. “I didn’t even think about that.”
With a shake of my head, I console her. “It’s a different world they’re growing up in. I try to enjoy the conveniences and not get overwhelmed by how much I don’t know about raising kids in this kind of techy world. I definitely can’t lean on my own experiences as a kid.”
“I wouldn’t know where to start.” She glances at Lily to find her studying each DVD case, one by one.
“Remember when you’d go to a movie rental store and just browse movies? Part of it was about getting a movie, and part of it was the experience of wandering around and seeing what fit the mood.”
She grins. “I wish I’d appreciated it more. I still rent movies from the library sometimes, though. And I’m sorry I don’t have streaming.” Her face falls a bit. “I’m just trying to be smart.”
“You don’t have to apologize for anything. You’ve invited us into your home and you’re letting Poppy—Pops! Wait, no!”
My curious, nosy, no-boundaries little four-year-old is pulling a long plastic tub out from under the bed, snatching off the lid, and pulling out what is a brain-melting array of colorful bras and panties, looking at them sideways.
I’ve made it to Pops in seconds, but she’s still got bras and panties and larger swatches of silk that are probably little nightgowns strewn around her.
Good God.
“Daddy, what are these? They’re so pretty!” She marvels at a bright red bra with a small black bow between the cups. “It’s a rainbow!”
She’s not wrong. There’s something in every color and I am trying to be a gentleman instead of tallying up all the items in all the colors and all the ways I would like to be the one to enjoy.
“These aren’t for you, Pops. When we’re in someone’s home, we don’t open their things.” I’m shoving silk and lace back into the container as fast as she can pull them out. “You’ve invaded Miss Sam’s privacy, and you need to apologize.”
“I do? But I like this stuff. Why can’t I look at it?” She holds up a peachy-colored silk something and rests her head against it. “This is so soft.”
A pained sound emerges from me and I grab it from her and break out the dad voice. “Poppy, we have to stop touching Sam’s things. Please go help your sister pick a movie.”
Her bottom lip juts out, and I get the mean mug she has perfected since she was born. “Okay.” It’s more dejected than mad, though, and it’s only because she doesn’t understand.
I reaffix the lid to the box of wonders and slide it back under her bed. Then I stand and turn to find Sam with her hands covering her mouth and her face strawberry red.
“I am so sorry.” What else can I say? I don’t even know.Sorry my kid was a creep and snooped in your underbed totes, and sorry I ended up pawing through your lingerie collection and oh, by the way, if at some point you decide to give me a chance, I’m up forall of it?
