Page 8 of About Time

I shrug. Now that I’ve started the story I am less anxious about telling it. “Relax, that’s not where our romance began, but you have to know this part to understand what happened when we first got together a few years later.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure you hooking up with a nineteen-year-old when you were nearly thirty makes it better.”

I glare at him. “Are you really saying that right now? You screwed your daughter-in-law in a storage closet at Donovan’s bar when she was only twenty-three and you were nearly twenty years older. At least Hattie and I are only ten years apart.” My nostrils are flared and I’m doing a shit job of controlling my breathing.

Griffin starts laughing. “Oh god, the look on your face. It’s not like you got married when she was that young. Like you said, I married my daughter-in-law. Fuck, I knocked her up before she was even divorced from my son.”

“Shit, Dad, maybe don’t brag about that,” Liam complains.

They exchange a look which shuts Liam up immediately. We all know exactly what the circumstances were that made Wren turn to Griffin. Not the kind of thing that Liam likes to talk about, or even think about.

The tension between them will dissipate eventually, but I don’t really feel like sitting here while the pressure slowly releases. I didn’t anticipate how telling this story would bring back all the feelings. I can feel how amused I was with her back then.

I know some people would think I molded her into what I wanted for when she turned eighteen, but we didn’t actually spend a lot of time together. We talked at barbecues and when she’d come to the games. I never sought her out, but I didn’t run from her either.

I’ll admit it was flattering when I noticed her developing a crush on me, but I deflected her attention by offering to help her with boys. Someone had to. No one over five looks good in overalls.

After that, our interactions were always the same. I’d point out a guy closer to her age and coach her through talking to them. At first, she was stubborn and resisted my help, but eventually, she accepted and followed my directions. Not once did I ever get jealous seeing her talk to another guy, at least not until after she came back from college.

While Griffin and Liam are still locked in a staring match, I head into the house to get a beer. I don’t even knock as I walk through Griffin and Wren’s back door. I could go to my house, but my wife is here, and I need to take a minute and reassure myself that we’ve survived the story playing on a loop inside of my head.

All five women turn their heads to me when I walk into the kitchen. Hattie’s eyes slowly move up and down my body, and I want to call it a night and drag her to bed. Our girls are asleep, sowe should take advantage of this time without someone needing something from us.

Wren’s gaze bounces back and forth between us. “No you don’t,” she says and points her finger at me. “I can read that face. You’re not taking Hattie, she was just about to tell us how the two of you got together. We all realized none of us have any idea how you ended up together.”

I focus all of my attention on Hattie. “Do you think they teamed up on us? Scott got me talking about it too.”

Harlow raises one hand. “That would be my fault, or rather Scott’s. I know he loves living in Seattle, but I miss being in a small town. We were talking about how much easier it is to connect to people in a small town. That kind of morphed into talking about how we met, then how everyone else did. Then it occurred to us that we really didn’t know much about how the two of you got together.”

“I’m glad she asked, this sounds like it’s going to be some juicy stuff,” Bess says and rubs her hands together.

I roll my eyes at her. She’s toned down her appearance, lost the bright hair dye, and the neon punk clothing is gone, but her personality is still as vibrant as ever. I’m glad she hasn’t lost that edge. This world would be a much duller place without her sparkle.

These people are my family, the only one I have. Griffin likes to tease me for my level of attachment to everyone, but he feels the loss of Scott and Harlow the same as me. My parents were mostly absent, which was way better than when they actually paid attention to me. My father’s attention came in the form of his fists. Once I was big enough to hit back, he and I avoided each other. Griffin and I both got jobs at the garage, and I haven’t been home since. My parents became just two more neighbors I passed at the grocery store in our way too small town.

Hattie pushes her chair away from the table and walks over to me. Her arms go around my middle, and she buries her face in my chest. I take a step back from her and raise her face to look at me. “Is everything okay?” I whisper.

She tries to give me a reassuring smile, but it’s weak. “I’m fine. I haven’t thought about all of this for a long time. It’s harder to talk about than I imagined.”

“You don’t have to,” I tell her.

“I know, but it also kinda feels good to get it out. Yeah, it hurts, but it’s the kind of pain that leads to healing.” She drops her arms and gives me a playful push. “Now go back to the boys, you’re interrupting girl talk.”

“Fine,” I grumble. I open the fridge and grab a couple of beers. “I’m getting out of your hair.”

When I finally make it back to the fire tensions have settled down between Griffin and Liam.

Scott chucks a marshmallow and hits me in the middle of my forehead. “Thanks for leaving Donovan and I with these two grumpy assholes.”

I take my seat again. “I’ve been putting up with them for over thirty years. It’s time someone else dealt with their bullshit. Do you guys want to keep complaining, or should I continue with my story?”

Griffin props his feet up on a stump. “I’m still holding my breath, waiting to hear why you started this story when Hattie was sixteen.”

“Well, that’s an easy explanation, that’s because when I tell you the next part I want you to understand without a doubt that there was nothing going on before she went off to college.”

Charlie Past- Age 27

Martin is out in his garage with his head under the hood of his ancient truck when I pull into his driveway. I grab some tools out of the toolbox in my truck and join him. I exhale in relief when I see that he hasn’t dismantled the engine.