Page 84 of Stowaway Whirlwind
“I mean it,” he says, stomping on the last ember with his heavy black boot.
Dolly walks around the house, her hands on her cheeks as she observes the mess. “I am so sorry,” she says with tears in her eyes, then pulls the sides of her jacket tighter around her middle. Wyatt goes to his wife, sweeping her into a bear hug.
“It’s ok. We never liked that chopping board anyway,” I lie, hoping to make her feel better. I hook my thumbs on my silver belt buckle, still fighting the smile.
Dolly’s face falls, and her lower lip wobbles. “I gave Goldie that chopping board,” she says in a small voice. “She didn’t like it?”
“Shit,” I mutter, then dodge to the right when Wyatt comes after me for hurting his wife’s feelings. I laugh as we tussle, both trying and failing to get the other in a headlock. My ball cap getsknocked off and trampled in the blanket of fallen leaves beneath our boots.
“Boys. Boys! Knock that off and come inside,” Ms. Ellie yells, exasperated. “The house is clear, and it’s time for cake.” She hesitates before adding, “Pizza should be delivered soon.”
Dolly groans, and Wyatt leaves me with a narrow-eyed look before gathering his wife up and carrying her toward the house, kissing her temple.
When it’s Rowan’s turn in the spotlight, his green eyes go big and round in the wooden high chair that I used as a child, my parents having saved it in the garage, after Goldie sets the small orange smash cake in front of him. Just one word into theHappy Birthdaysong, Rowan face-plants in the cake, wrapping his arms around it protectively. Even before he started eating solids, his size gave Dolly and Wyatt’s sons a run for their money.
I’m overcome with emotion when Goldie squats next to the high chair with Lily in her navy corduroy dress, facing forward on Goldie’s knees when Ms. Judy holds up her phone to take a picture. After a few snapshots, Goldie gives me a megawatt smile and waves for me to join them for another picture. Instead of squatting on the other side of the high chair, I unbuckle and pull Rowan out of his seat, cake and all, then push the chair away. I sit next to Goldie on the floor and pull her down, our kids on our laps, with my arm around my wife’s back.
Lily giggles when Rowan flails his arms happily, and the icing goes flying. Goldie drops her head back and laughs when some of it lands on her cheek, and I turn to lick it off of her. Though there’s not much room left on our walls for more pictures, I know that if Ms. Judy has captured this moment, I’m going to blow it up and figure out someplace to hang it. It’s one more picture-perfect proof that the universe was on our side when my beautiful little stowaway chose my truck.
William waits impatiently to the side, and as soon as Goldie lets Lily off her lap, he grabs Lily by the hand and leads her back to the living room to play with some of their new toys. He snarls, “Don’t touch her toys!” at his younger brother, Weston, who tries to take the horse from Lily’s wooden barn set out of her hand.
Lily is such a sweet girl that when Weston’s bottom lip juts out, she reaches forward to hug him.
William gets between the two and says, “No hugging!”
Lily, startled by his yelling, starts crying alongside Weston, and William’s expression falls just like his mama’s did in the backyard.
Before I can reach her, William scoops her up in a big bear hug and gives her cheek a wet kiss. “I’m sorry, baby red. Don’t cry.”
I shoot a glare at Wyatt when he steps next to me. “I don’t like where this is headed. You need to keep your son in line and tell him to stop kissing my daughter.”
Wyatt guffaws. “It was a peck on the cheek. I don’t think we need to worry about the two of them yet.”
I double down on my glare, and Wyatt sighs, approaching his son to tell him to put Lily down. The glare that William shoots his Pops puts mine to shame after Wyatt tells William to back up a few paces.
Wyatt tugs at his beard when he rejoins my side as William scoots inch by inch under his father’s stern stare until he’s standing beside Lily, who has happily shared her horse with Weston and moved on to playing with the cow.
“Don’t do it, son,” Wyatt says to William with a low growl.
“Do what?” I ask.
William slowly slides behind Lily and reaches around her to pick up the toy pig.
Wyatt points his finger at his son. “I’m warning you. Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” I ask louder, taking a step forward.
“He’s going to—”
William drops the pig he was only pretending to play with, hugs Lily around her waist from behind, and lifts her off her feet to take off with her through the front door that’s still propped open to air the house out. Lily squeals with laughter, clapping her hands, as William easily cuts around the cars parked on the lawn while Wyatt and I have to force our heavy bulks through the gaps. Around and around, William swerves until Wyatt and I crash into each other and fall backward on our asses, giving William another head start.
“Jesus Christ, Wyatt. What are you feeding this kid?” I ask, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath after we finally caught up to William, who had sprinted through the—thankfully, dry—ditch on the side of the road, headed toward his house. “A four-year-old shouldn’t be able to run that fast while carrying another kid!”
“Like father, like son.” Wyatt’s expression is one of pride at his son’s abilities, though he’s struggling to contain it, knowing he has to discipline William forkidnapping my daughter.
I reach for Lily, andlike mother, like daughter, my sweet little girl kicks my damn knee. “No, Daddy!”
“Lily Jo…pumpkin. It’s not nice to kick Daddy.” I reach for her again.
