Page 8 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
Off near the bayou, Rebecca exited her cottage, locking the door behind her. All at once, her children went to the edge of the porch, waving as she cut across the lawn to her car parked out front. “Hey, Mama!” they chorused.
“Uncle Ben is making hamburgers,” Livy called out. “Do you want to eat dinner with us?”
Rebecca didn’t even pause. “Not tonight, baby. I’m meeting Daddy at his friend’s house.”
“We’re going go-kart racing!” CeCe shouted, wrapping her arms around a column so she didn’t fall off the porch. “You wanna race me?”
“Maybe.” Rebecca made it to her car, wiggling her fingers at her children. “I’ll see you later.”
Devon remained quiet, as did Simone, and they waited while Rebecca’s children watched her drive off yet again without them. The older they got, the harder it was to make excuses. And once the dust settled from her departure, Simone cleared her throat.
“I believe we were discussing go-kart racing.”
Livy plopped down in the rocking chair beside Toby while CeCe crawled into Simone’s lap, the happy afternoon lost.
“Hey, none of that now,” Devon said gently when CeCe started sucking her thumb. “There’s no need to be sad.”
A sniffle came from Livy. “I don’t think she likes us.”
“She loves you,” Simone assured her. “It’s just that your mama is in a… funk.”
It was rare to see his wife struggle to find the right words, and Devon swooped in to save her. “Your mom does love you. She’s your family.”
“But why can’t we be like your family?” Toby whispered. “What’s wrong with us?”
“Like our family?” Simone placed her finger under Toby’s chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. “You are our family, Tobias. All three of you are our family.”
Livy shook her head. “But—”
“No, buts,” Devon cut her off. “And I’m going to tell you something my mom told me when I was a kid. You see, we didn’t have any blood relatives when I was growing up. It was just me, my mama, my mama’s friends, and their kids.”
“Like here?” CeCe’s big brown eyes blinked in awe. “Just like us?”
“Well, the apartment complex I lived in wasn’t as nice as Haven House, but the friends we made there were very similar to what we have here, and you know what, our time with them taught me a valuable lesson.”
“And what was that, Mr. Howard?” Simone asked, rocking in her chair again as she cradled CeCe. Livy and Toby followed her lead, rocking as they settled in to listen.
“That sometimes the family God gives you isn’t the one you’re meant to keep. Sometimes, you’ve got to go out and make your own. Find your people. Find your place in the world with them.” He gestured to the sweeping landscape. “And when you do, that’s where you settle and make a home.”
“Ah, hell.”
Devon downed his beer in one go. “Dammit, man. I had faith in you.”
Smoke poured from the grill, drowning them in a smog of burnt meat. Ben coughed. “I can fix this.”
Ty leaned in to look, his own beer in hand. “How in the hell can you fix that?”
“Shut up.” Ben stabbed at the meat until one patty broke completely apart. “Just shut the hell up.”
“We’re gettin’ so much moolah for the swear jar,” CeCe announced, head down as she scribbled in her notebook at the patio table behind them. “We’re gonna go G-O-K-A-R-T-R-A-C-I-N-G.”
“Capital T, CeCe,” Devon reminded her. “And it’s okay to make the tips curly.”
Her handwriting continued to be inconsistent, even writing some letters backward. This journaling idea had come to him earlier in the summer. The process was meant to not only encourage CeCe to express her emotions when they got too big for her but also to allow her to write in a non-structured state, which gave him the opportunity to see what areas they needed to work on the most. He and Simone would review the entries at bedtime, discussing CeCe’s feelings with her and noting any improvements or loss of skill in her handwriting.
“Everything okay out there?” Laura Jean appeared at the screen door. “How much longer before thefood is ready?”
“About long enough for us to order pizza.” Ty nudged Ben with his elbow. “You burnt it, so you have to be the one to tell them.”
