Page 20 of My Wife
But she has my kid.
The witch bride says, “They just want your autograph and I want one too. Well, not me. Could you personalize itTo Grandma Dolly. I’m your number one fan?”
We stop by my truck. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
She guffaws. “No, I am definitely not your number one fan. No offense, but you could be less rude. You wouldn’t want someone to think that you’re a stinker.”
I’m about to defend myself, when, still holding the kid, she makes a motion with her hands. He laughs again.
I squint but don’t have time for her games. She could be using sign language, but why would she do that and how would the kid understand? “Did you just tell him, that I’m?—?”
He mimics the motion she just made and giggles before burying his head in her wild mop of brown hair that’s half up and half down.
They both laugh like they have a little secret.
I say, “We’ve got to go.”
“Or you could stay and sign autographs and take photos like a normal sports star. Obviously, they adore you.”
“I’m late.”
“Yeah me, too. Late for my appointment with life.” A flash of sadness spills over her features, but it’s quickly replaced with a sunny grin that somehow makes the clouds above disappear for a moment.
The snapping of cameras on phones and the squawking of the fans fade as I meet her brown eyes.
“Today is a new day. Carpe diem!” Her hand forms a light fist and she sweeps her arm in front of her chest, pumping the air slightly.
The strange thought that the world is a dim place without her smile beams into my mind. Perhaps I need that cookie after all.
I blink and the world comes back into focus. What am I thinking? I don’t need anything or anyone.
7
JESS
Grandma Dolly will be disappointedI met one of the Knights players but didn’t get his autograph or a selfie. Instead, I got a snarl and a whole lot of attitude.
Having him write that he’s her fan would’ve been a hoot. But the guy has no sense of humor. Didn’t smile once. Not even at his precious baby.
It’s too early in the day to be so surly if you ask me.
As I get in my car, he peels away in his big truck, leaving me in the dust.
Not that I was expecting him to stick around. Not at all, but that old lonesome feeling of seeing the backs of people leaving returns, stinging a dark place inside that my own personal positivity hasn’t quite reached.
It always has. Probably always will.
I’m determined to defy the odds with my unfailing and unflinching optimistic attitude. It never lets me down.
Grandma Dolly calls me her ray of light. Maybe I won’t mention my encounter with Mr. Meanie. However, I will make it my mission to get the cantankerous hockey player’s autograph. I snap my fingers. That’s thinking too small. I’ll get all of them to sign a team photo. Oh, she’ll love that!
I take a long sip of my coffee. My body buzzes as if not sure whether it wants to fall into a deep sleep or seize the day.
Either way, I’m still in this gown so if I fell asleep like a fairytale princess, I wouldn’t object to a prince waking me up with a kiss. I chuckle.
The little sweetheart from the bakery said his name was King. Pretty clever if he was playing pretend, but I’m guessing that’s not his actual name. He seemed to understand more ASL than he could sign—not bad for a little guy.
I’d rather hang out with him than his father. What does he have to be crabby about? He has an adorable son, admiring fans, and a hockey career.
