Page 59 of Sex. Love. Marriage.
“Never mind.” I scoot closer to him. “Are you being nice to your sister?”
He shrugs and digs his spoon into his cereal. “If being nice means not talking or hitting her, then yes.”
I roll my eyes. “So, buddy, Jason was telling me about this fishing charter he takes the boys on every year. Would you want to go with me?”
Oliver’s eyes light up. “Really? Like just me and you?”
“Well Jason and the twins would be there too,” I point out as Hazel sits down across from him, her plate full of pancakes she probably won’t finish.
Oliver glares at Hazel but doesn’t say anything to her. “But she won’t be there, right?”
I fight off a frown. It bothers me that he hates Hazel so much and I can’t understand why. He didn’t up until a year ago. Sure, Hazel’s got a mean streak in her just like all kids, but all Hazel’s ever wanted is to be like Oliver. She adored Mara but Oliver, he’s the big brother. For that reason, she idolizes him even if he’s a dickhead to her 98 percent of the time. He should be protecting his little sisters, but instead, since Mara died, he distances himself from his siblings.
In theory, I think I know why. It’s like when my black lab, Eddie, growing up had puppies. She had five one year. Four girls and one boy. The boy, he was the runt of the litter and died almost immediately. After he died, Eddie didn’t want anything to do with her puppies. I had to feed them with bottles to get them to survive, and I remember thinking back then, I can’t believe she turned her back on her puppies all over one dying.
Now that I’ve lost a child, I understand it a bit more, and I think in part, that might be what Oliver’s doing. He’s distancing himself because of how bad that hurt. He was eight when Mara died, and I’m sure he remembers every detail about the day as he was with her that morning. It all happened so fast, and I’m sure he has regrets of his own, but he’s so much like me, it’s hard to get it out of him.
Maybe a weekend alone with him will help that.
“Shit!” Kelly yelps, jumping away from the griddle and holding her arm.
“Mama said shit!” Hazel snickers, petting the cat sitting next to her.
“Ew, shit,” Sevi giggles, sitting on the floor at Kelly’s feet. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
At first, I search out Fin, wondering if shit will be her next word. Nope. She couldn’t give a flying fuck. There’s a pancake on her tray and she’s stuffing it in her mouth.
I look over at Kelly to make sure she’s okay. “You okay, honey?”
She’s running cold water over her wrist. “Yeah, just burnt myself.”
After breakfast, I head to work, thankful it’s finally Friday. Just before I’m out the door, Kelly stops me, padding through the foyer with her bare feet and holey sweats. “Were you serious?”
“About? Not mowing the lawn. Absolutely. Fuck that HOA lady.”
She frowns, biting on her fingers. “No, but we’re talking about that later. I’m talking about the fishing trip with Oliver.”
I reach for my keys on the table next to the door. “Yeah, I was.”
“Don’t promise him something and not follow through with it.”
“I won’t.” I know, you’re cringing. Hopefully he doesn’t have to call an Uber again.
Relief washes over her face and her shoulders sink forward. “Thank you.”
I lean in, my chest pressed to hers. “Thank me tonight. How about we go to dinner together?”
Her eyes light up. “Really? Like just us? No kids?”
I wink and press a kiss to the curve of her neck. “Let’s ditch ’em,” I whisper, darting my tongue out to lick her lightly.
A shiver runs through her body, and she pulls away, a new-found spark to her tired eyes. “Let’s see if I can find a babysitter.”
On Friday nights back before Mara got sick, and even after for a while, my parents used to watch the kids so Kelly and I could go out. Usually, going out meant sex in the car on the way to the restaurant and then maybe again on the way home because sex at home just didn’t happen once Sevi was born. For the first year of his life, he insisted on sleeping in our bed. I know, I was that parent that said we were never letting our kid sleep in our bed. But when your kid cries like he’s being murdered, you change your mind real quick just for a few hours of sleep.
Sorry, I got off track there for a moment. My point… I want a date night with my wife, and no kids are allowed.
I THINK I’VEtold you this, but I’m beginning to hate my job. Not only is working for your brother awful, but I also miss working on the ranch and my uncle’s repair shop. You know that saying the grass isn’t always greener on the other side? It’s definitely bitten me in the ass. I can’t even tell you why I took the job, other than I was tired of hearing “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
