Page 92 of Chasing Fireflies

“Oh yeah, we got into a little argument over this here crib. You see, I bought the wrong color,” Joe says, taking a cookie for himself. Elizabeth walks back into the kitchen, and Joe leans in. “She gets a little nuts sometimes. I think it’s the hormones,” he whispers, looking over my shoulder. “I told her I’d paint the thing after she got done screaming at me and tossing the box out into the yard. You see it when you walked up?”

I nod.

“She did that,” he says, taking another bite. “That’s a big ass box, Cash, but she threw it like it was nothing. It still had parts of the crib in it. I had to go outside and fetch them.”

“You two want some milk?” Elizabeth asks. Joe, wide-eyed, looks a little terrified that she might have heard him. I’m still in the twilight zone.

“I’ll take a glass,” he says, then looks at me, nodding for me to get one, too.

“Umm…me, too, thanks,” I say, still looking at him. He smiles big and goes back to the crib. I follow.

“Joe?”

“Yeah, chief?”

I lean in like he did to me. “Are you scared of Elizabeth?” I ask quietly.

He laughs like I’m crazy for saying that, so I laugh a little, too, but stop as his face grows serious. “Cash, she threw a box full of crib parts out into the yard. One minute she’s baking cookies, the next she turns into the damn Hulk. Wouldn’t you be a little scared? She has two humans growing inside her that are probably going to be just like her. I’m scared to death and the happiest man on the planet at the same time.”

I nod my head at his smiling face and put the rest of my cookie into my mouth before I pat him on the shoulder. Elizabeth hands me the milk, and I down it.

“I’m going to get going now. Elizabeth, thanks for the cookies and milk. Joe, I’ll see you later,” I say as I hand her the cup.

“Anytime, Cash,” she says, smiling and putting a hand over her stomach. I walk out and shake my head.

Everybody in this town is having babies or losing their damn minds. Hell, some of them are doing both, I think to myself.

*

I step out of the truck with more balloons than the movieUp. Tables are set up outside in the front yard, and my little five year old is standing on top of a chair with a red cape on her back. “Daddy, look. I’m Superman and I can fly!” she yells before she leaps and spreads her little arms out wide. She has blue lips from the Popsicle in her hand. I tie the balloons onto the side window of my truck before she runs over to me and jumps into my arms. “Did you bring all those balloons for me?” she asks.

“Yep.” I kiss her cheek and look up when Leigh walks out of the house. “Come on, Supergirl. Your mama wants you to change your shirt.”

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” Ellie asks, looking down. It has blue stains all over it.

“Looks like you got a little dirty, Little Miss.”

She giggles. “Daddy, that’s not dirt. That’s Popsicle.”

“Oh, right,” I say, kissing her again and moving her brown hair from her shoulder. She looks like her mama in almost every way, has her blue eyes, her pretty face, and her fun personality. But she has my brown hair, and she likes doing what Daddy does—fishing, playing with Bear, and watching sports. She’s a little Sara and a little me all in one.

*

A few kids run around us screaming and blowing bubbles while Mark and I sit on the porch steps nursing the beers in our hands. Sara sits with Leigh and Maci out at one of the tables as Anne talks to my mom. I look over at my dad who is chasing Little Miss around the yard. She has two balloons tied to her wrist, and Sara put her hair up into some kind of messy something. It’s falling all around her face, and she swipes it out of the way as she runs from her grandpa. He catches her, though, and lifts her into the air. I can’t help but smile as she laughs.

We’ve come a long way. We still don’t see eye to eye on everything, but these past years have been good…better I should say. I hear the door open, and Banner walks out with Ben’s kid.

“How in the hell did I end up with a newborn? Where are this kid’s parents?” he asks, walking past us.

“Ben and Shelby snuck out back, said they were giving you some practice.” I laugh.

“I’m not having kids, so I don’t need the practice. He keeps making a weird face, man. You think he’s pooping?”

I lift my chin, looking at the kid’s face. “Yeah, that’s definitely a poop face.”

“Fucking hell. I’m going to find those two. I don’t give a shit what they’re doing. I’m not changing a brown diaper. I’ll throw up, man. I’ve got a weak stomach.” He gags. “I smell it,” he says. “I fucking smell it.” He walks off with Mark and me laughing.

“Cash, where are the birthday candles? Don’t y’all think it’s time for us to do the birthday cake?” Debbie asks. I look back.

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