Both of the boys have started using that word again—die—notable the first few times I heard them say it, because I avoided using it casually for years after Jason’s death.I think it’s probably a good sign that they aren’t afraid of the word anymore, but it still startles me most of the time.
“Come on, man.Just blob the mousse in there and get out already.”
“Mousse?”Trace is laughing.“You think I’m a lesbian from the 1980s?I don’t use mousse.”
“Trace,” I raise my voice.“That was a rude thing to say.”
“Mom, calm down,” Trace says.“What’s rude about it?”
“Lesbians in the 80s used mousse?”Bryce arches one eyebrow.
“I think everyone in the 80s did,” I say.“He could’ve just said ‘I’m not awomanin the 80s.’”
Bryce goes back to banging.“Let me in, or I’ll take a dump in the trashcan in our room.”
“Bryce Merrill Littlefield.”
Bryce rolls his eyes.“I won’t really, Mom.Come on.”
Trace finally opens the door.“Alright, already.Geez.”He tosses his head.“Go on in, you big baby.”
Trina stumbles out of her room, blinking her eyes.“Why’s everyone yelling about poop?”
“You aren’t even dressed?”I throw my hands up in the air.The next few moments are spent helping Trina catch up after waking up so late.Thankfully, with Trish’s help, we even get my daughter’s lunch packed in time for Trace to take her to school with them.
“Mom, don’t forget the team meeting,” Bryce says as they head out.
“Shoot.”Trace winces.“I forgot to ask before, but Blaine asked if we could teach her how to use a hurley.I told her we could later today.”
I frown.“Nine-year-old next-door-neighbor Blaine?”
“Do you know a lot of other Blaines?”Bryce smirks.
“At her age?”I ask.
“You think she’s too old?”Trace’s brow furrows.“I didn’t get started until this year.You can learn, even late, trust me.”
“I was thinking she’s awfully young to be taught by a teenage boy.”I’ve seen how the girls at school look at him.I can’t help wondering whether Blaine asked because she has a crush on one or the other of my sons.
“I said I’d help too,” Bryce says.“But why’s that bad?”
I shrug.“It’s not, I guess.I’m surprised she wants to learn.”And that Trace would agree to help her.He’s not usually very nice to younger kids.
“It has been pretty cool to learn, and I like being good at it.”Trace swallows.“I like it, and I thought she might too, okay?”
Part of me wonders whether he’s just happy to be good at something again after his injury and subsequent retirement from football fame back home.It might not be the best reason to help someone, but it’s not the worst.Who am I to tell him no if he wants to do something nice?
“Sure,” I say.“That’s kind of you boys.”
Once the kids are gone, I meet with Natalie to go over the remodel budget updates.The numbers are a little depressing, but they aren’t catastrophic.
Natalie looks downright glum about it, though.“Why does it always cost so much more than you think?”Natalie’s the fretter among us.I don’t think I realized that the reason she always planned trips was because without knowing the details, she stresses and can’t enjoy them, until the last few years when I offered to help.
I know it now, for sure.“It’s going to be fine,” I say.“I always knew it would be at least ten percent, but possibly as much as twenty percent more than the budget, so I made plans for that.”
“You’re smart,” Natalie says.“I’m glad you’re here.”
“What’s Samantha saying about the barn?”
