Page 21 of Motivating Mira
“Yeah, well he’s not easy to talk to,” she said sounding pouty.
“And you are?”
She sniffed indignantly. “I miss my mom. I knew how to deal with her.” Wrapping her arms around her middle, she sank onto the family-sized hammock Jesse had strung between two trees in the backyard.
“We all miss her.” I looked over my shoulder through the glass doors at Jesse standing inside, scrubbing his face with his hands.
“I’ve ruined your life. I made you move here to this shitty place, and now I’ve ruined his too.” She motioned to the door with her head and sniffled again. “You didn’t ask for me.” She scowled. “And I didn’t ask for a jerk father who has the emotional maturity of a twelve-year-old boy.”
“Can we tamp down the swearing, please, Marn? This isn’t a shitty place. It’s pretty awesome.” I waved an arm at the mountains in the distance. “And don’t assume you’ve ruined anyone’s life either. Mine was pretty crummy when I left. Andwould have been worse without you.” I walked over and sat beside her, careful not to tip the hammock. “The dumbass inside had a pretty meaningless existence before you too, you know. You’re the best thing that’s happened to us.”
“Yeah?” she asked in the most sullen voice I’d ever heard.
“Yeah. And your dad has the emotional maturity of a seventeen-year-oldat least.” I nudged her with my elbow and even though she meant to hide it, I saw her smirk.
“That’s kind of sad, Uncle Wes.”
“What? That I’m best friends with a man who’s basically only seventeen?”
“No, that both of you had shittier lives without me.”
I chuckled. Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I tipped us back quickly so we were lying in the hammock. She yelped at the swift movement and whimpered until she was sure the swing wasn’t going to dump us.
“Maybe you guys need to get a life,” she said quietly while the hammock swayed.
I looked down at her in my arms and her expression turned thoughtful.
“I mean, he’s stuck with me, but you don’t have to give up a chance at happiness for us.” Gathering a breath, she forced her eyes to find mine. “We’re going to be okay.”
I kissed her forehead, sticking my leg over the side to give us a little push. “Yeah, yeah. Brat. But I want to be here.” I gave one of her long dark curls a tug and she smiled sweetly.
“You can do both, you know.”
My brows rose. “Both?”
“Yeah, be here and have a life. Go out on dates and stuff.”
I narrowed my eyes on her. “You’re way too smart, you know.”
She shrugged. “Obviously, Uncle Wes,” she said, and then rolling her eyes, added, “Both my parentsaredoctors.”
Her eyes met mine again, and this time pain flickered in them at her slip. It was a pain I felt too. Her motherwasa doctor.
“Eye rolling is like nails on a chalkboard to me.”
“I know.”
I harrumphed.
“Fine. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
For several minutes we just looked at the sky, listened to the crickets and rocked, absorbing each other’s pain.
“Okay, so let’s recap before your dad gets jealous that we’re out here cuddled up while he’s in there still wondering what he did wrong.” I held up a finger. “One. Gotta communicate. Two. He doesn’t know what you don’t tell him. And neither do I. And three. Honey, he’s ripe for the training.” Now I rolled my eyes. “He’s desperate enough to resort to self-help books.” I smirked and a little grin appeared on her face.
“You’re right, eye rolling is annoying.”
