Page 148 of Nineteen Letters
“Daddy boobies.” She covers her mouth with her hand to stifle her laugh.
“No! No boobies for Daddy.”
“Yes boobies,” she says giggling, as she backs away again. She already knows what’s coming.
“Roarrrr!” I bellow, breaking free from the sand.
She squeals as she scoops up her little pink bucket and runs towards the house. She’s only three, so her legs are tiny. It only takes a few steps for me to catch her. She squeals again when I scoop her into my arms.
Her body squirms when I bury my face in the crook of her neck and blow a raspberry against her soft skin. “No, Daddy,” she cries out through her laughter.
We are still laughing as I brush the sand off her tiny feet when we reach the back deck, before placing her down.“Mummy, I have shells,” she calls out, running towards the sliding doors.
I love that little girl so much. I love both ofmygirls.
After brushing off my own sand, I head into the house. I find Jem sitting at the kitchen table with my dad going through the memory book she made for him. She does this every day.
It’s an album full of pictures of his life. His parents, my mother, me, Jemma and Grace. It even contains pictures of the hardware store and Samson. Every day she sits with him, retelling him stories of his life, things he’ll never be able to remember on his own.
His memory has gone now. There are no more good days, but he still seems happy, and I can’t ask for more than that. He lives with us now.
Jem never left after that night she spent here with me. We’ve been back together, in every sense of the word, ever since. A month later, we brought my dad home. Jem wasn’t ready to go back to work, and she wanted him here, with us.
I hired a nurse to come in three times a day, to make things easier on her, but she still gave him all of her time. When she fell pregnant with Grace, we hired a full-time nurse. My father stays in the spare room downstairs, and I converted my office into a bedroom for his carer.
The bond that my wife has with my father is strong. Her memory has never fully returned, so she gets him.
I stand in the doorway and watch Grace climb onto my dad’s lap. It’s her favourite place to sit. They watch television together, and sometimes she reads to him. Well, she turns the pages and names all the pictures. Although he doesn’t know who she is most of the time, it’s plain to see how much he adores her. His face lights up every time she enters the room.
“Morning, Pop.” I lean down and plant a kiss on his hair. He just looks up at me with confusion in his eyes, but he still smiles.He’s always smiling.
“That’s me, Pa,” Grace says, pointing to the picture in the album on the table.
“It is,” he replies, grinning down at her.
I make my way around the table to Jemma. Bella-Rose is lying at her feet. “Morning, babe.”
I bend down and brush my lips against hers as my hand gently rubs over her very pregnant belly. Pregnancy suits her. I love seeing our baby growing inside her. We found out two weeks ago that she’s carrying our son. His impending birth will complete our family perfectly.
“Morning, handsome,” she replies, eyeing me up and down.
“I’m just going to have a quick shower and wash the rest of this sand off, and then I’ll help you organise breakfast.”
“Okay,” she says. That sparkle that was always present in her eyes when she looked at me has returned.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, patting Lucas on the shoulder as he waltzes through the front door.
“Where’s my little munchkin?” I should have known that would be his first question.
“Oh, hello to you too,” I say sarcastically, and he laughs. “She’s on the back deck with my dad and Jemma’s parents.” He heads in that direction, so I turn my attention to his wife. “Hi, Rach.” I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Jem’s in the kitchen.”
“Okay. How are you, Brax?”
“I’m fantastic.”
“You look happy.”
“I am.”
