Page 56 of Unravel Me

“I am not.”I might be.Well on the way, at the least. “Look, I gotta go. She’s here right now, and I’m supposed to be starting the barb—”

“She’s there? Right now? Introduce us!”

“Absolutely not.”

Her dark brows pull way down. “Deacon, make your son introduce us.”

Dad rips open a Fruit Roll-Up, and now I want one, so I grab one too. “Adam, listen to your mother so I don’t have to, blah blah blah, happy wife, happy life.”

I stifle a laugh at the look she gives him, and when Connor squeals with laughter, my mom’s jaw dangles, and I pause, my rainbow treat hanging in front of my open mouth.

“Is that a…a baby?”

I stuff my Fruit Roll-Up in my mouth. “Toddler, technically. Connor is fifteen months old.”

She turns to look at my dad, sniffling. “Deacon, we’re gonna be grandparents.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I knew this would happen. “I just told you I haven’t even kissed her!”

“Well, what are you waiting for? And make it good, so she wants to keep you! None of that half-assed, three out of five bullshit!” She snickers at the look of pure exhaustion on my face. “Can you tell us a little bit about her? Just quick. Then we’ll hang up and leave you alone. Promise.”

Turning away from the window with a sigh, I pace the living room, staring at my feet, rubbing my neck. “She’s…she’s really beautiful. Not just on the outside but the inside too. She’s in vet school, and she works at one of the animal shelters here. She’s got such a kind heart, and she’s the best mom.” I shrug. “She makes me feel like things aren’t so heavy.”

Mom watches me with a quiet, wobbly smile, and Dad gives me two thumbs up behind her, another Fruit Roll-Up in his mouth. I register the softdrip, drip, dripof water only a moment before a tiny voice whispers, “Dada,” from behind me.

I spin around, eyes locking with Rosie’s wide ones from where she stands halfway inside my patio door, Connor bundled in a towel in her arms, Bear panting at her side.

“Okay, Mom, I have to go,” I sorta scream.

“Did he just call you da—”

“Bye!” It takes me seventeen thousand tries to hit hang up. I shove one hand through my hair and gesture over my shoulder, forgetting about my phone in my hand. It soars through the air and lands with a clatter somewhere behind me. “That was my—my friend was just—I wasn’t talking about—that was…” I choose to stop—it seems like the safest bet—and settle for anxious chuckling instead.

“Was that your mom?”

“Who, that?” I wave a hand through the air. “No.”

“You said, ‘Okay, Mom, I have to go.’”

“Hmmm. Yeah, I see how that could be construed. Definitely.”

The corner of Rosie’s mouth hitches. “Okay, well, we’ll go get changed.”

“Great. Awesome. Yeah, and I’ll go start the barbecue.”

She pauses at my side, smelling like coconut and lime, sunshine, hope, and everything good and right. “You make me feel like things aren’t quite so heavy, too, Adam. Just in case you were wondering.”

* * *

“How the hell did you get mashed potatoes in your eyebrow, bud,” I mutter, scrubbing Connor’s face with a warm washcloth. He turns away, sending a spray of water up around us when he splashes in the tub. “Jesus Christ, it’s in your ear. Rosie! It’s in his ear!”

Rosie giggles, dropping to her knees beside me as I scoop out his ear potatoes. “Connor has a knack for getting his dinner in every single crevice. Check his elbow.”

I take his small hand in mine and lift his arm. Sure enough, right there in the crease of his elbow, is a clump of potatoes. I shake my head, wiping him down, and the little monkey tries to eat the potatoes out of my hand. “Big trouble and little trouble. Perfect names for you and Mama.”

Rosie flicks water at me. “I think it’s you who’s the troublemaker.”

I want to start all sorts of trouble with Rosie, but I’m trying to be on my very best behavior. It’s hard, because the sun’s on its way down, the air has cooled, and she’s currently drowning in one of my T-shirts and a pair of my sweatpants.

---