Page 82 of About Time

“How does Harlow feel about it?” I ask him. I don’t see her objecting, so I don’t see what the issue will be with them moving back.

“I know she likes her job at Anderson Global. I don’t want to clip her wings, and she’s finally getting to use her degree. I can’t force her back into a small box.”

I shake my head. “You know that Harlow doesn’t prioritize money and status. She likes being useful. Most importantly she values being with family. We’ve never replaced her at the garage. We’d love to have her back running the books at Hale and Storm. You know Wren would love to hand that part back to her. Plus, your baby would never have to be in daycare.”

He nods his head over and over, absorbing the admittedly hard sell I just gave to have them move back. It isn’t the same with them gone. We created our found family years ago, but having the two of them join made it feel complete somehow. And Scott is more supportive of my dad gang than Griffin is. He has to move back because those moms at school pick up are vicious.

He doesn’t speak up right away, and I’m failing to see what has him so tied in knots over the desire to move back. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“You know my assistant coach?” he asks.

“The one who wasn’t an abusive ass hat? What was his name, Tucker?”

He nods. “Yeah, he is a good guy, and he got a great opportunity to coach a minor league team. The university asked him for a recommendation for a replacement, and he suggested they ask me. Central Valley wants me to come back as the head coach. It’s insane, because I don’t have the experience beyond playing in college, but the athletic director thinks it will be good PR for the university. But that means?—”

Realization hits me. “That means that she would be the coach’s wife again.”

“I don’t think I can ask this of her. There are too many bad memories for her. Not just what her ex-husband put herthrough, but the college hung her out to dry by taking away her job all to appease her husband’s giant ego.”

“Don’t underestimate her. Ask her,” I advise him.

He looks away from me, back to my house, where right about now Hattie is probably making sure they will be comfortable in our guestroom.”

“I don’t know if I can do that. She’s pregnant, and after what her ex did to her I worry that something could go wrong,” he says.

I grab his shoulder. “I know how terrified you were when he took her, and having seen the bruises he left, but the doctors said that there was no permanent damage. She’s a lot stronger than you think.”

“That may be, but I can’t stop myself from taking care of her like she’s made of glass. If even mentioning to her that the university offered me the coaching position could cause her stress, I can’t do it,” he explains.

“I can’t tell you what to do, but I will advise you to trust your wife. Selfishly, I’d love to have you both back. Harlow is like a sister to me, and the dad gang isn’t the same without you.”

He rolls his eyes. “Perhaps that’s because I’m the only one who will entertain your lunacy.”

“Tomato, potato,” I say.

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” Scott corrects.

I shrug. “Same difference. That’s not what’s really important though. You realize that we both have super hot wives inside, hopefully slipping into something tiny and lacy, and we’re out here poking at dying coals.”

“Good point,” he agrees. “Harlow is full of pregnancy hormones and I’m wasting all this horny energy with you.”

“I’m starting to understand why Griffin likes to keep Wren pregnant,” I say.

“The man is a fucking genius,” Scott agrees.

We don’t waste any more time watching the last of the fire die out. He helps me grab the cooler, and we throw the melting ice on it to make sure it won’t spark up again. Then without a word, we hurry across the communal lawn to my house. Inside we split ways.

Once inside our bedroom, I hear Hattie moving around in the bathroom. She’s singing Iris, a little off-key, but it’s still the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. While she’s occupied I grab my guitar out of the closet. I’ve played for her a few times over the years, but not often.

When she comes out I start to play a few chords, and I let them blend into Kings of Leon’s, “Sex on Fire.”

She bites her lip as I sing about hot sex and a passionate romance. Her body is wrapped in a towel. I jerk my chin in her direction in a silent command to let it drop.

Hattie lets go of the large bath-sheet and I take in the long lines of her beautiful body. The years haven’t changed how sexy I think she is. Stretch marks remind me of the two beautiful daughters she carried for us. There’s a faint tan line from the bikini she wore on the trip we took a few weeks ago to see her friend Clark in Florida.

He turned out not to be such a bad guy after all, but I think I like him a lot better now that he’s married to a woman he’s crazy about and has a couple of kids of his own.

She stands in front of me waiting for my next direction, and I do hate to keep her waiting. I set my guitar back in the case, and grab a silk rope.

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