Page 100 of Three Not-So-Little Words
“I love it,” I tell him. “What’s your favorite part about it?”
“My racecar bed.”
Drew says, “He loves the bed, but he hardly ever sleeps in it. Most of the time, he ends up in bed with me.”
While I may not know the exact reason why Colton doesn’t want to sleep in here, I can take a guess. This whole move was a huge change I’m sure, and his room still seems a little unfinished. Maybe it doesn’t quite feel likehisyet.
I’m not about to say that because chances are, I’m talking out of my ass. I don't have kids. What the fuck do I know?
I hang out a little while longer before heading home for the evening. As I’m about to walk out the door, I hear Colton running down the hall.
“Bye, Ronnie!” He waves at me and smiles.
“Bye, little dude. I’ll see you next time, and I’ll bring pizza.”
“Yes!”
As he runs back to his room, Drew leans down to kiss me.
“You never cease to amaze me,” he says.
I smile. “Just wait until we are alone again. I’ll amaze you even more.”
thirty-six
Knitting Grannies
Ronnie
“Termites? What the fuck do you mean I have termites?” I cry.
The pest guy stands stone-faced staring at me. “They’re not all that uncommon.”
“Okay. I just need you to hang out here for a second. My sister is on the way. She’s the one who owns the house, and she will know what to do.”
This whole thing came about because this morning, I was walking around, minding my own business when my foot went through the floor in my kitchen. My immediate thought wasnottermites, but when I called the town handyman business and told them what happened, they called in this guy instead.
I let out an involuntary shiver at the thought of termites munching on all of the wood that constructs the house. I somehow feel violated.
Moments later, Liz comes walking through the front door with Jack behind her, holding Beth.
They introduce themselves, and then, the pest guy begins explaining what’s going on. Not wanting to hear all the details over again, I take Beth and head into the living room.
I sit on the floor and set her across from me. I’m thrilled she’s now old enough to sit up on her own.
I look at her and see her head of dark hair is now starting to spring into ringlet curls just like her mom’s.
She’s cute. I’ll give her that.
Chewing on her fingers, she stares up at me.
“Fingers taste good?” I ask.
All I get is a coo in response.
Suddenly, all I can think about is Beth falling through the floor due to the fat little termites. What if she falls through a giant hole and can’t get out?
I’m aware it sounds illogical…and maybe a little insane. But it’s still giving me anxiety, so I grab her and set her in my lap.
