Page 53 of No More Love Songs

The drive is livelier than most, with Sky spending nearly the whole way there twisted in her seat to talk to both girls sitting in the back. It’s bittersweet, listening to Ari so engaged with her, laughing and sharing and opening up in a way I know she doesn’t do with just anyone. It’s hard to deny, that despite my efforts to be all the parent she needs, she’s missed having that motherly figure in her life. Mavis is amazing, but she’s closer in age to a grandma and some things Ari just can’t relate to her on.

Downtown is busy when we arrive, as it usually is for a Sunday. Plenty of people walking the sidewalks or eating at the many restaurants offering outside dining. Thankfully, parking is easy enough to come by, and shortly after arriving, we’re mingling with the rest of the pedestrians.

“Where to first?” Ari asks. Like we don’t all know she wants to hit the bookstore as soon as possible.

“I was thinking the outdoor sports place. I could use some new climbing gloves, mine are about shot.” I’m totally screwing with her. Already ordered a new pair online two days ago.

“Really?” Ari squints her eyes at me. “You’re totally messing with me.”

“Obviously.” I laugh. “Lead the way to Brown’s Books.”

Instantly, Rat and Ari hook arms and start marching in perfect rhythm, skillfully moving around any oncoming walkers, and just about leaving us in the dust.

“Should we speed up?” Sky asks, already picking up the pace.

I grab her hand and slow her down. “It’s just one block up. By the time they’re out of sight, they’ll be walking in the store. And the guy who owns it went to school with Mavis, so I’ve known him, well, all my life.”

“That’s handy.” She smiles, and I’m pleased to find, she makes no effort to free her hand from mine.

It’s nice, walking together, with her, like this.

“Have you put any thought into your crafting project?” I ask her, reminding her we made plans to hit the Scrap and Paste after the girls get done gushing over every new cover they find on the shelves of Clint’s store.

“You were serious about that?” She looks surprised.

“Woman, how long have we been doing this? Of course, I was serious. You came here looking to fall in love with love, and I promised to supply every new experience under the sun to help you find what fills your cup. The Scrap and Paste totally makes the list. Trust me.”

“I do.” She smiles. It’s different somehow. More confident. Not that she lacked confidence in herself, but this is different. I can’t put my finger on it, but I like it. “In that case, I think I’m going for the cereal box journal.”

“Good choice. I have a granola one at home.” Made it when Ari was seven and begged me to have her birthday party there.

“Do you use it?”

“Not anymore.” Filled it up in a few months’ time. “But I still keep it in my nightstand just the same.”

“You really journal?” She seems to have a hard time believing that.

But I nod, to reiterate it. “Yeah, sort of. I mean, there’s no real rhyme or reason to it. Some days it’s just keeping track of mundane but necessary parenting shit, like dentist appointments or when the next parent teacher day is. Others I go on and on about something funny Ari said or document some milestone of her childhood. Sometimes it’s just a list of everything I’m grateful for, or some set of lyrics or a bit of music I’m playing around with. And, on occasion, when I spin off into the dark side, I drop all that shit down on paper too.” I shrug. “Helps me sort it out faster.”

“You spin off into the dark side?” Curiosity and concern mingle in her eyes.

I want to address both, but we’ve reached the store, and discussing my dark side isn’t the sort of conversation I’m going to have when Ari’s within earshot.

“I have my moments.” I grip the doorhandle, preparing to open it, “but it’s never anything I can’t find my way out of.”

She watches me for several seconds before slowly beginning to nod. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Then we go inside, and all talk of darkness is forgotten. In here, with the girls and Sky, there’s nothing but light. And I’m prepared to soak it all up as much and as long as I can.

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