Page 128 of Our Long Days
Back in his truck, there’s a shift in him. More relaxed. Assured.
“That went well,” I say while buckling my seatbelt. “Doctor Accetta is…”
He pushes the key into the ignition, chuckling. “She’s a ball buster and should’ve kicked me to the curb years ago.”
“I’m glad she didn’t. You need some tough love.”
The roar of the engine drowns out his grunt, and we make our way back to town. Instead of taking the back roads toward the cabin, we head in the direction of my mom’s neighborhood.
“Pat giving you a ride later?”
“Yeah. I said I’d watch Lottie while he and Jo are out.”
Patrick and Jo have an appointment with their OBGYN, and after I’ve packed the rest of my belongings up, I promised my niece a tea party. I haven’t stepped foot in the A-frame since he showed me the location of our future home. My brain has been a lot kinder recently, and next month, I’m meeting with a new psychiatrist.
We pull up outside my childhood home, and I crawl across the bench to smack a kiss to Dex’s lips. He deepens it, giving the neighbors quite the show until I pull away breathlessly.
“Down, boy.” I poke him in the chest. “Oh, don’t forget to clean out Duck Norris’s water. And the boys need to take their deworming tablets.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. I love you.”
He strokes a finger over my tattoo. “You’re beautiful. I love you. Now, get out of here.”
I jump out, wave at him until the truck disappears around the corner, and go inside.
“Hey, Mom,” I shout and kick off my sneakers.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m back here.”
I follow the sound of her voice and find her reclined in her chair. She closes her book and smiles when I enter the den. My dad’s matching chair remains untouched.
“Is that one of my books?” I ask and sit on the sofa opposite her. “You know there’s…”
“Sex?” She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m familiar with the act, Florence. I have four children.”
I shiver. “Respectfully, please stop.”
She laughs. “Are you taking your books with you?”
“A few.” I pat my emotional support Kindle in my tote bag. “They’re mostly trophies, so have at them.”
“Oh, I will.” She fans herself with the pages. “These cowboys are something.”
Note to self: don’t join a book club with my mother.
“Moving on… Do you know where Daddy’s old Polaroid camera is? I was hoping to take it camping next week. Document the trip and make a scrapbook out of it.”
“That’s a lovely idea.” Her expression turns reminiscent. “I’m so happy for you, Florence. And Dexter. It was a surprise, but a wonderful one. So many years ahead to make beautiful memories.”
My tummy flutters. “I’m excited about what’s next.”
She leans forward, setting her book aside. “And what is next? Apart from the cabin? What’s left to do on the List of Florence?”
Laughing, I fuss with the cushion before I freeze.
I blink at her.
