Brock’s father’s look became cautious when he muttered, “Hey Fern.”
“Cob,” she bit off, clearly deciding not to go with the option of leaping forward and scratching out his eyes as this would scar her grandchildren for life but I could tell she was hanging onto that control by a thread.
Then Brock’s father’s gaze hit me, his head tipped to the side and his eyes flashed back and forth between his son and me about seven times before said, “Uh… hey there, little lady.”
“Dad, this is Tess,” Brock introduced.
“She’s Uncle Slim’s girlfriend!” Ellie shouted, her fingers curled into Cob Lucas’s pants, her back arched at an impossible angle, her grape popsicle-stained mouth smiling huge up at her grandfather.
He looked down at her, put a big hand gentle on her head and asked softly, “Is she, my Ellie?”
“Yeah!” Ellie cried. “And she wears pretty shoes and she’s gonna watch Tangled with me right now! ”
Cob’s eyes came to me, they were curious, searching even but, like he looked at Fern, hesitant as he muttered, “That’s fantastic, sweetheart.”
Into this conversation, Fern asked acidly, “There a reason you’re here, Cob?”
“Well, actually,” his eyes moved from Fern to Brock to me and back again, “yeah.”
“I’ll bet there is,” she mumbled bitingly.
I caught sight of Laura bugging her eyes out at Brock and with that I decided to take action.
I slid out from under Brock’s arm then leaned and carefully took the dishtowel out of Fern’s hand. Then I walked to the couch and grabbed the bag of snickerdoodles at the same time I swiped up the popsicle and announced, “All right kids, in this bag are bakery fresh snickerdoodles I made at my shop for your uncle. Whoever gets to the kitchen and gets their hands and mouths clean gets a cookie. Who’s with me?”
Dylan and Ellie instantly abandoned their grandfather and raced to the kitchen, Ellie hindered by here clickety-clack, plastic, little girl high heels nearly taking a header twice.
Grady got to his feet eyeing the bag and his mother, clearly weighing cookies versus hanging with the adults in a tense situation and, not surprisingly, cookies won out so he sauntered after his brother and sister. I followed them and didn’t look back as I was confronted with a kitchen Fern obviously just cleaned and shut the swinging door behind me.
Then I set about hiding nine of the dozen snickerdoodles (Brock’s favorite) and setting out the other three at the same time supervising cleaning up three tired, wound up kids.
When they were clean and sitting at Brock’s scarred, wooden kitchen table eating cookies and sucking back milk from glasses I’d poured, Grady, the oldest (my guess, Ellie around four or five, Dylan around six or seven and Grady around eight or nine) informed me,
“Grandma isn’t Grandpa’s biggest fan.”
Hmm. How did I respond to that?
“Well, sometimes things get complicated with adults,” I told him lamely.
Grady kept the information flowing. “Dad isn’t his biggest fan either. Dad says he’s a douchebag.”
I pressed my lips together to stop the giggle escaping then I said, “Douchebag isn’t a really nice word but, that said, your father is entitled to his opinion.”
Grady kept speaking. “Uncle Slim puts up with him but I think he does it for Mom and Aunt Jill ‘cause they like ‘im but Uncle Levi thinks he’s a douchebag too. I heard him and Uncle Slim talkin’ when Uncle Slim told Uncle Levi to cool it about Grandpa because it was bothering Aunt Jill but Uncle Levi said that Grandpa never paid child report and he had a bunch of girlfriends other than Grandma so he didn’t owe him anything and neither did Aunt Jill.”
Apparently, Grady had a mind like a sponge though he got one thing wrong. Child report I was guessing was child support and I was also guessing having a father that didn’t pay it and played around on your Mom was not good.
“I like Grandpa!” Ellie piped up.
“Of course you do, honey,” I said, smiling at her from my place leaning against the counter.
“I put up with him like Uncle Slim,” Grady announced.
“Grady’s gonna be Uncle Slim when he grows up,” Dylan, sporting a milk mustache, shared.
Grady did not challenge this information. Instead, he declared proudly, “He played first base and I play first base. He played linebacker and I play linebacker. His job is scary, Mom says, but he does it to keep kids like me safe so that’s what I’m gonna do too. When I get old, I’m gonna keep kids safe.”
I was feeling warm and gushy again.
“That’s a fantastic goal, Grady,” I said quietly.
“Do you got kids?” Dylan asked.
“No, honey, I don’t have any kids.”
“That’s good. When you marry Uncle Slim, you can be Mom to Rex and Joel,” Grady offered and I blinked.
“Sorry, honey, who?”
“Rex and Joel, Uncle Slim’s kids, our cousins,” Grady told me, my body went completely still including my heart and lungs, the warm gushiness evaporated and Grady kept talking.
“Aunt Olivia used to be married to Uncle Slim and Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Jill, Uncle Fritz and Uncle Levi aren’t her biggest fans. I’m really not allowed to say the word Mom calls her. Dad too. And Uncle Levi said if he saw her again, he’d break her neck.”
I stared at him.
“She has a pinchy face,” Ellie added to the conversation, making her own scrunchy face that stated clearly she felt the same about Aunt Olivia as everyone else did.
“She never brings snickerdoodles to the family reunions,” Dylan put in then sucked back more milk before he musingly went on, “Or anything.”
“She wouldn’t think about snickerdoodles. She doesn’t care about snickerdoodles. Mom says she only cares about looking good and that’s why she’s always gettin’ her nails done,”
Grady authoritatively told Dylan.
“She has pretty nails,” Ellie told me. “I like her nail polish even though it’s almost always red. She should try pink.”
Although I was nowhere near processing the information they’d provided me, Grady kept spouting it. “She brings Rex and Joel to the family reunion every year and she stays and Mom says she stays even though she’s not family anymore just to show off her fancy outfits and be a wet blanket. I can’t say why Uncle Levi said she does it because most of the words are bad.”
“Cob,” she bit off, clearly deciding not to go with the option of leaping forward and scratching out his eyes as this would scar her grandchildren for life but I could tell she was hanging onto that control by a thread.
Then Brock’s father’s gaze hit me, his head tipped to the side and his eyes flashed back and forth between his son and me about seven times before said, “Uh… hey there, little lady.”
“Dad, this is Tess,” Brock introduced.
“She’s Uncle Slim’s girlfriend!” Ellie shouted, her fingers curled into Cob Lucas’s pants, her back arched at an impossible angle, her grape popsicle-stained mouth smiling huge up at her grandfather.
He looked down at her, put a big hand gentle on her head and asked softly, “Is she, my Ellie?”
“Yeah!” Ellie cried. “And she wears pretty shoes and she’s gonna watch Tangled with me right now! ”
Cob’s eyes came to me, they were curious, searching even but, like he looked at Fern, hesitant as he muttered, “That’s fantastic, sweetheart.”
Into this conversation, Fern asked acidly, “There a reason you’re here, Cob?”
“Well, actually,” his eyes moved from Fern to Brock to me and back again, “yeah.”
“I’ll bet there is,” she mumbled bitingly.
I caught sight of Laura bugging her eyes out at Brock and with that I decided to take action.
I slid out from under Brock’s arm then leaned and carefully took the dishtowel out of Fern’s hand. Then I walked to the couch and grabbed the bag of snickerdoodles at the same time I swiped up the popsicle and announced, “All right kids, in this bag are bakery fresh snickerdoodles I made at my shop for your uncle. Whoever gets to the kitchen and gets their hands and mouths clean gets a cookie. Who’s with me?”
Dylan and Ellie instantly abandoned their grandfather and raced to the kitchen, Ellie hindered by here clickety-clack, plastic, little girl high heels nearly taking a header twice.
Grady got to his feet eyeing the bag and his mother, clearly weighing cookies versus hanging with the adults in a tense situation and, not surprisingly, cookies won out so he sauntered after his brother and sister. I followed them and didn’t look back as I was confronted with a kitchen Fern obviously just cleaned and shut the swinging door behind me.
Then I set about hiding nine of the dozen snickerdoodles (Brock’s favorite) and setting out the other three at the same time supervising cleaning up three tired, wound up kids.
When they were clean and sitting at Brock’s scarred, wooden kitchen table eating cookies and sucking back milk from glasses I’d poured, Grady, the oldest (my guess, Ellie around four or five, Dylan around six or seven and Grady around eight or nine) informed me,
“Grandma isn’t Grandpa’s biggest fan.”
Hmm. How did I respond to that?
“Well, sometimes things get complicated with adults,” I told him lamely.
Grady kept the information flowing. “Dad isn’t his biggest fan either. Dad says he’s a douchebag.”
I pressed my lips together to stop the giggle escaping then I said, “Douchebag isn’t a really nice word but, that said, your father is entitled to his opinion.”
Grady kept speaking. “Uncle Slim puts up with him but I think he does it for Mom and Aunt Jill ‘cause they like ‘im but Uncle Levi thinks he’s a douchebag too. I heard him and Uncle Slim talkin’ when Uncle Slim told Uncle Levi to cool it about Grandpa because it was bothering Aunt Jill but Uncle Levi said that Grandpa never paid child report and he had a bunch of girlfriends other than Grandma so he didn’t owe him anything and neither did Aunt Jill.”
Apparently, Grady had a mind like a sponge though he got one thing wrong. Child report I was guessing was child support and I was also guessing having a father that didn’t pay it and played around on your Mom was not good.
“I like Grandpa!” Ellie piped up.
“Of course you do, honey,” I said, smiling at her from my place leaning against the counter.
“I put up with him like Uncle Slim,” Grady announced.
“Grady’s gonna be Uncle Slim when he grows up,” Dylan, sporting a milk mustache, shared.
Grady did not challenge this information. Instead, he declared proudly, “He played first base and I play first base. He played linebacker and I play linebacker. His job is scary, Mom says, but he does it to keep kids like me safe so that’s what I’m gonna do too. When I get old, I’m gonna keep kids safe.”
I was feeling warm and gushy again.
“That’s a fantastic goal, Grady,” I said quietly.
“Do you got kids?” Dylan asked.
“No, honey, I don’t have any kids.”
“That’s good. When you marry Uncle Slim, you can be Mom to Rex and Joel,” Grady offered and I blinked.
“Sorry, honey, who?”
“Rex and Joel, Uncle Slim’s kids, our cousins,” Grady told me, my body went completely still including my heart and lungs, the warm gushiness evaporated and Grady kept talking.
“Aunt Olivia used to be married to Uncle Slim and Mom, Dad, Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Jill, Uncle Fritz and Uncle Levi aren’t her biggest fans. I’m really not allowed to say the word Mom calls her. Dad too. And Uncle Levi said if he saw her again, he’d break her neck.”
I stared at him.
“She has a pinchy face,” Ellie added to the conversation, making her own scrunchy face that stated clearly she felt the same about Aunt Olivia as everyone else did.
“She never brings snickerdoodles to the family reunions,” Dylan put in then sucked back more milk before he musingly went on, “Or anything.”
“She wouldn’t think about snickerdoodles. She doesn’t care about snickerdoodles. Mom says she only cares about looking good and that’s why she’s always gettin’ her nails done,”
Grady authoritatively told Dylan.
“She has pretty nails,” Ellie told me. “I like her nail polish even though it’s almost always red. She should try pink.”
Although I was nowhere near processing the information they’d provided me, Grady kept spouting it. “She brings Rex and Joel to the family reunion every year and she stays and Mom says she stays even though she’s not family anymore just to show off her fancy outfits and be a wet blanket. I can’t say why Uncle Levi said she does it because most of the words are bad.”
