Page 77 of My Wife
She twists her lips to one side as if reluctant to explain. “Since you didn’t figure it out on your own, I’ll give you a hint. Sometimes, in life, we get so used to doing things one way, we don’t realize there’s another. Like a scenic route rather than the most direct path. Or communicating with our hands rather than our mouths.”
My eyes lock on hers. That whooshing feeling races through me. My lips part, but no words come out.
Jessica grins as if pleased.
Pivot,pivot, pivot.
Maybe she’s right. The way I’ve been doing things isn’t the only way, especially when it comes to the team. Perhaps that’s Coach Badaszek’s lesson as well. He saw I was in a rut and instead of throwing me a rope, he made it deeper so I could see where I was at for myself.
Perhaps it’s time to change.
I signThanksand then pull away. My thoughts linger on the woman with the full, peachy lips, expressive eyes, and magnetic smile.
The next morning, since we went in my car to Dolly’s and Jessica left her hunk of junk on wheels at my place, it takes me almost five minutes to get the thing started. I wonder if the battery is dead and look in the trunk to see if she has jumper cables. Instead, I find the witch bride wedding gown she wore that first day we met.
Perhaps she has to say an incantation to get the engine to turn over.
The kid asks where we’re going and I want to tell him to see Jessica, but realize I don’t know how. I give him the one-minute signal and try turning the key again. Thankfully, this time the car starts, but it’s sketchy business getting to Silver Queen Street.
I’m at once frustrated by the ordeal and miffed that she tolerates this. The Knights must pay her a decent salary to work as a personal assistant, and now I’ve added to that for her taking on the role of nanny.
The whole thing is pretty fluid, I realize, because she was already spending a lot of time with the kid. She practically lives in the loft. I don’t mind much. The least I can do is provide her with safe and reliable transport.
Also, she’d look hot in a truck. Or a sports car. Even a sedan. A minivan?
I stop abruptly at a pregnant yellow light, wondering where that thought came from. I want to tell the kid we’re okay, but the words die on my tongue. He won’t understand me, anyway. Can he read lips or will he be able to like Dolly? Can he hear any sound at all?
All at once, the death grip I’d had on my life and the control I tried to assert by focusing on hockey to the exclusion of everything else hits me like a semi. Thankfully, not actually because we’re on Dolly’s quiet, residential street.
Jessica greets us at the door.
Panic building, I blurt, “We have to get the kid to a specialist. I have to research hearing assistance and find out what we can do for him.”
Meanwhile, unaware, he rushes into the cozy house and Dolly’s outstretched arms. She signs and he smiles with glee. Relief tries to wash through me but gets stuck somewhere between my head and chest.
As her eyebrows creep toward her hairline, Jessica pumps her hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.”
“What have I been doing? I’m the worst father.”
Jessica sandwiches my hand in hers. “You’re not the worst father. I hope I didn’t overstep, but with Grandma Dolly’s help, I’ve been researching and using the resources we have to get him to the top specialists in the state, along with looking at childcare centers. I was just waiting to ask for your permission.”
I stagger back. “You did that?”
Old me would’ve been mad and felt undermined, but I want to scoop her into my arms and spin her around. I’ve never felt so—supported. But then the argument comes with its fists lifted. I’m a man, I don’t need support. Do I?
I have the sudden and stark realization that I’ve pushed away any and all help. That could be yet another reason Coach named me captain. He recognized my leadership capacity but knew that I’d only be as good as the team. I let out a long breath.
“Once we understand what we’re working with when it comes to KJ’s hearing, we’ll match him with a place he can go where they can help develop his communication skills while also being around his peers.”
“So you don’t want to be his nanny anymore?” It almost sounds like I said,Mommy. But I didn’t, only Jessica very much seems like one with the way she openly accepts him, nurtures him, loves him.
When she doesn’t respond, my nose twitches and my eyes prickle a bit. It’s windy today. Maybe she didn’t hear me. Throat scratchy and not sure what else to say, I figure we should head over to the car dealership.
“Do you still want to go?” More importantly, I think I realize just how much I want her to stay … with us.
She replies, “Sure.”
Holding the door open, I say a simple “Thanks,” I gesture goodbye to the kid and Dolly.
