“Ohmigod, I can’t imagine.” Faye stifles another round of laughter.
“Did you need something?” I ask, realizing she’s in the hallway for a reason.
“Just going to use the restroom before the movie. The boys said they pulled blankets from the guest room and are getting settled to watch the movie.”
Looking toward the living room, it suddenly feels too quiet. “I’d better make sure that’s all they’re doing.”
“You do that. I’ll be out in a minute.” Faye reaches up on her toes and pecks a kiss on my cheek. When she pulls back, I feel the warmth from her touch long after she slips into the bathroom and shuts the door in my face.
How can she still have this effect on me after all these years?
When a low thud from the living room draws my attention, I make haste to ensure nothing—or anyone with the luck of those two—is broken.
Thankfully, it’s only Josh dropping blankets onto the floor. I watch him contemplate whether to lie on the floor or sprawl out on the soft cushions in front of him. Without a word, he quickly picks up his things and sets himself up on the couch.
Once he’s settled, I spot Jason innocently crawling into my recliner. He and Josh have been taking turns sitting in my favorite chair since they arrived. Truthfully, if I need rack time, I’ll sleep on a pile of rocks, but it makes them feel special, so I let them think what they will about the chair.
That leaves the loveseat for Faye and me.
Ha. Who needs wingmen when I’ve got these two?
“Can we have popcorn, Papa?” Josh asks.
“You got a hollow leg or something? Where are you putting all this food?”
He looks just like his mom when he drops his chin and slowly shakes his head at me. “There’s always room for popcorn with movies.”
“Are you sure about that?” I counter.
“Yeah, Papa,” Jason pipes in. “We’ve got room.”
“Hmmmm…” I draw out, contemplating my choices.
It’s already been over an hour since we’ve eaten s’mores. They played soccer in the yard before coming in for their shower.
Fuck it. It’s not gonna hurt them.
“Let me put these towels in the laundry and grab a shirt. Then I’ll see about getting us popcorn.”
By the time I slip my shirt over my head and return to the kitchen to make popcorn, Faye has joined the boys in the living room.
When she hears me open the pantry and pull out the air popper, she asks, “What are you making now?”
“Popcorn,” the boys say in unison, and all I can do is smile.
I did this with my girls every chance I could when they were younger, too. As Mom would say, I’m making memories.
“Make yourself comfortable on the loveseat. I’ll be right out.” Just as I’m about to start the machine, a thought hits me. “There are plenty of blankets in the hall closet, if you wanna grab one for yourself.”
To this day, my girls rarely watch movies without snuggling with a blanket. If I recall, Faye was the same when we were younger. Sometimes, I’d come home from work to find her and my mom snuggled on separate ends of our couch, watching some rom-com or another, especially after Mable went away to college.
Mom always did like Faye.
I shouldn’t have been surprised they kept in touch. Faye spent just as much time at our house as she did at her own in high school.
Wonder what Mom would think of us running into one another again.
God, what I’d give to pick up my phone and tell her about this.
