“It’s certainly possible.”
“Good. I hope so. I’m tired of being short.”
I wisely suppressed a laugh. “You’re nine, Chase. If you’re like me, you’ll do most of your growing when you’re in high school.”
“Ugh! That’s forever from now. What if I don’t get taller and no one wants me on their team and?—”
“Whoa. Where’s this coming from?”
Chase wiggled on the cushion, pushing his wayward hair aside to meet my gaze. “I got picked second to last in kickball yesterday. It was embarrassing, and I want to squish stupid Gabe Poophead like a bug ’cause he told everyone I was a la-bility.”
“Liability,” I corrected absently. “That’s not cool of him.”
“I know! I’m still mad. Gabe’s dad is shorter than you by like…five feet. I think I can beat him.”
This time I did chuckle. “It’s not a competition, buddy. Everyone grows at different rates, but yeah…I have a feeling you’ll eventually end up being taller.”
He nodded, obviously pleased with my assessment. “That’s what Frank said, too.”
“Ahh.”
My good humor fizzled like a dying balloon. Don’t ask me why. Frank Daleo wasn’t a bad guy. He was goofy and surprisingly sweet for someone who vaguely resembled a hitman. No kidding. My ex’s bald, stern-faced, and gravelly-voiced new husband could have been mistaken for one of Tony Soprano’s goons. But Frank was just an insurance salesmanfrom Scranton who’d relocated to Fallbrook soon after meeting Sarah.
That was three years ago now, and like I said…nice guy. I was happy for Sarah and relieved that she hadn’t married an asshole. I didn’t worry about the kids when Frank was around. He was cool and deferential and yet…sometimes I resented him.
Like now.
Right in the middle of a perfectly nice father-son chat, I got Franked.
“He thinks I’ll be big and if I’m not, I can sell ice cubes in Alaska,” Chase continued, unaware of my inner reverie. “I don’t even know what that means.”
Okay, thatwasfunny.
Humor restored, I snickered and tousled Chase’s floppy hair. “It means you’d make a good salesman someday.”
Chase made anewface. “No, I want to be a football player or an astronaut or a logger, so I can work at the mill with you. Don’t tell Frank, but I think his job sounds boring.”
I made a zipped-lips motion. “I won’t say a word.”
“He has to be on the phone a lot and go to meetings…like everywhere.”
“Everywhere, huh?” I stacked the comics on the table, sorting out the ones we were going to purchase. It was time to get going, drop Chase off, and head back to the office.
“Yeah, he went to San Diego last week.”
Screech.
Why would an insurance salesman from Vermont need to physically go to San Diego for his job? That seemed weird.
“San Diego?”
“Yeah, we wanted to go too, but…school. And you have to take a plane, and remember how scared Ivy got when…”
I nodded and hummed along to whatever he was saying, but my brain was buzzing.
Something was going on. I had no idea what it could be, but California coming up in conversation with each of my kids within a week was a strange coincidence. I didn’t like it.
“Come on, Den. You got this, baby!”
