Page 140 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
While AshLynn has refused to “forgive” Willow for the transgression that is me—ridiculous though it is—Cassandra has been a bit more lenient. Not much, but a bit. They still don’t know the engagement was fake, and neither Willow nor I plan to tell them.
Jonathan has mellowed quite a bit with his risky business decisions and his spending habits, and his life seems to have calmed over all. Which makes Willow happy. And as long as ’Low is happy, then I am too.
Zach approaches with Zoe in his arms. “Someone needs changing, wish me luck.”
“Zoe poop!” my daughter yells, bouncing up and down in Zach’s arms.
“Good luck,” I call after him.
Zoe took to Zach immediately. From the minute she was born, and they cleaned her up under the heat lights, he was there talking to her, letting her grab his finger, and telling her everything she needed to know about life. He is by far her favorite of all of us. And she his. I thought Willow would feel slighted by it. Instead she feels grateful for the extended family we’ve provided our children and that they have a “choice” of adult to bond with.
I take another sip of my beer and look around at the party. The deck and beach are filled with people. Our friends with their kids, Dash’s entire preschool class and their parents, Mom and Abe, Zach and his partner, Michael. We do parties like this a few times a year, and Willow thought she would hate it. But she shines. Every time. She’s in her element talking to people and making them feel at home, and I am happy to let her do it.
Dash is in the bounce house with a bunch of his friends, having the time of his life. P-Tink travels from person to person, nudging them with her nose, hoping for either dropped food or belly rubs. Or both.
Michael enjoys staying busy. Filling drinks, taking empty plates, providing refills, prepping and replenishing food. He’s a sous chef in a French restaurant downtown, every aspect of hosting a party makes him happy.
Which leaves Zach to play with Zoe. A task he takes seriously. In addition to diaper changes, he carries her with him everywhere at most parties. And she is perfectly content to stay in his arms and hang on his every word. He tells her interesting facts about each guest, about their conversations, sometimes in front of them, sometimes not. Most times offensive and inappropriate I’m sure, but it’s their thing. Zoe is an old soul in a toddler’s body. She and Zach connect in a way that most of us don’t understand.
Willow is convinced that Zoe is their friend Marlie come back to life. Much the same way that P-Tink is Granny Violet incarnate. I don’t pretend to understand a lot of that stuff, but as long as Zoe isn’t negatively affected by Zach’s comments or actions, I’m totally okay.
Speak of the devil.
“Tell Daddy what you just told Zachey,” Zach says to Zoe.
Zoe sighs, then places her little hands on either side of Zach’s face, forcing him to look her in the eye. “You is good boy.”
“See?” Zach looks at me triumphantly. “Princess Zoe has spoken.”
“Piss Zoe poken,” Zoe says.
“I am a good boy,” Zach says. “I’m going to have T-shirts and hats made. Maybe some buttons, like those ones they use in campaigns. Soon, everyone will know.”
“Eryone, Daddy.” Zoe nods in agreement.
I kiss my daughter on the cheek. “You’re a good girl, Zoe.”
“Zoe good girl,” she says.
“Okay, well, we’re off to conquer the world,” Zach says. “Onward, Princess Zoe.”
“O word,” Zoe parrots.
I check the meat on the grill and grab a fresh beer from the cooler.
“I’ll take one of those,” Jonathan says from behind me. I grab him a beer, open it, and hand it to him.
“Thanks,” he says moving to stand beside me.
We are silent for a moment before he speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you, Mason. After all these years.”
“Thanked me for what?”
“For changing my life,” he says casually. As though changing a life is an everyday occurrence.
“Excuse me?” I ask almost choking on my beer.
“Whatever nonsense it is that happened between you and AshLynn set off a chain of events that has irrevocably changed my life for the better. Even if I didn’t realize it then, I do now. And I owe it to you. So, thank you. I’m indebted to you.” He raises his beer and tips the bottle at me in affirmation before walking away. I stand there, fully aware that my mouth is hanging open in shock, but not yet having shut it.
