Page 103 of Sex. Love. Marriage.
Now it’s Bonner’s turn to stare. “I should get the monkey back to his owner.”
“Yes, you should.” I turn back to my toolbox, picking up my phone to check the time. “I have work to do.”
The guys leave not long after that, and I’m left to the cars in the shop. I have to admit, as weird as they are, it’s nice to have them around. Don’t tell them, but I kind of like them.
It’s different working by myself. There’s no more trying to get guys to do their job. It’s just me and cars. Like working on the ranch. At least with cars, they don’t get into the neighbor’s field, making me chase them down in the middle of the night.
It’s a little after three in the afternoon when the shop door opens and in walks Kelly, by herself, without kids.
I smile, excited to see her. She spots the car immediately, her eyes sweeping over the black Expedition. “Is that my new car?”
I nod. “You like?”
“Can we afford that thing?”
Leaning into my toolbox, I shrug one shoulder. “I knew a guy who owed me a favor.”
Her lips press into a line. “Nick?”
Again, I nod. “Where’s the brood?”
“Ashlynn took them to the park after school.” She steps closer to me. “I thought maybe we could have dinner together. Just the two of us.”
I’m hoping by dinner she means sex, but I’d go for some food too. Reaching out, I grab hold of her hip and pull her into my chest. Her arms rise and wrap around my neck.
Bending forward, I press a kiss to her lips. “What do you say I make a meal out of you first?”
She pulls back, smirking. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
For the next fifteen minutes, we fuck against my toolbox. Something we haven’t done in years. Or maybe ever. It might have been a fantasy of mine as opposed to something that actually happened in the past, but whatever. It’s no longer a dream.
Fastening my belt, Kelly rights her clothes, still smiling like she’s so incredibly happy she can’t help but smile. It’s so bright it sparks my own.
“What?” she asks.
I take hold of her hand and draw her into my chest, my lips pressed to her forehead. “I love you.”
A content sigh passes over her lips. “I love you too.”
Believe it or not, I went to a counseling session with Kelly the other day. I know, crazy, huh. What’s even crazier is I actually listened to what the chick had to say—for about five minutes and then I lost interest. She did say one thing that stuck with me. Grieving the loss of a child is like looking at life through a glass wall in the wake of their death. Life happens around you, but you cannot participate until you’re ready to break the glass and continue on. For two years, even before Mara’s death, I’d been living behind that glass wall. Afraid to feel, love, or even enjoy life because I didn’t think I could.
I can. It’s okay to be happy again. At least I think it is. How is it fair to Kelly, the kids, and myself if I simply stop feeling anything in fear of love? The answer, though it still terrifies me at times, is that it’s okay. Trying to make our lives as normal as possible is hard, but we do it with an uneasy feeling in our stomach every time we see a little blonde-haired girl with curls and blue eyes.
It’s what Mara would have wanted us to do. It doesn’t mean we don’t love her any less; it’s because we love her that we’re choosing to move forward and remember her in all the ways she changed us.
Here’s a tip for you. I’m not sure how much advice you’d take from me, because let’s face it, I listened to Bonner, but here it is. Marriage isn’t a formula. If you add love and attraction, it doesn’t always equal happiness. You have to work at it and create your own.
And that, my friends, might just be the best advice you’ve ever been given. Married or not.
(I fear all of them now. And in no particular order.)
8 MONTHS LATER
YOU KNOW WHENyou plan a trip and you think to yourself, fuck, this is going to be awesome? Yeah, me neither since becoming a dad. It’s all fun and games when you’re younger, but once you have a wife and kid, fear takes over and all the things that could go wrong on this epic journey can and will go wrong.
Road trips are a prime example. You saw how the trip to Austin went. I knew this weekend was going to be something similar to that. Or at least that was my fear.
Now, you remember I promised Oliver a fishing trip? He certainly didn’t forget. Come July, I’m talked into taking him Bluefin tuna fishing out of Newport Landing in Newport Beach.
