TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

The sun is peeking through the blinds and I’m still in bed. Something must be up. I open one eye and look around, finding Scarlett asleep beside me. “What time is it?” I ask.

Scarlett’s eyes pop open. “Shit!”

“Why didn’t the alarms go off?”

“I don’t know,” she says, jumping out of bed. She shrieks the second her feet hit the ground and she falls over. “Luke!”

I roll out of bed and walk around to Scarlett’s side, finding Luke reprogramming both of our phones. “Phone,” he says, laughing.

“Buddy, how did you get out of your crib?” I ask him.

“Climbed,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“I told you he needed to be put in a big-boy bed,” Scarlett says, lifting him up.

“Yeah, I didn’t think giving our son the run of the house was the best idea in the world,” I say, imagining the worst.

“We’ll figure it out later. We’re late.”

I’m already half dressed as Scarlett’s still talking about being late. “I’ll go make sure the chef is here. Breakfast is in twenty minutes. My God, he better be here.” I grab Luke, trying to figure out where he’s going to go since he’s supposed to be with his grandmother right now, but here he is, looking at me like he’s not letting go anytime soon.

“Luke, where is Grammy?” Scarlett is looking at Luke as if he’s supposed to give her an explanation of where his grandmother is, but he looks at her like she’s crazy. He gets that look from me. At two, he speaks better than I ever thought a two-year-old was capable of, but he can turn it on and off like a light switch. “Luke Trace, tell Mommy where Grammy is.”

“Grampy,” he says.

“Oh God,” I say and run down the hall, knocking on the door at the end of the hall “Jack?”

No answer. Seriously? Come on. This is not part of the deal. I open the door and God dammit, I wish I hadn’t. “Guys, come on.” I close my eyes and cover Luke’s.

“Hey,” Jack yells. “Get out.”

“No, Grammy is supposed to be watching Luke. I have to get downstairs.”

“Lukey, come to Grampy,” Jack coos.

“Um no. Put clothes on.”

“Fine. I’ll come down and get him in a few minutes.”

I insisted on turning my house into a bed and breakfast because of all the extra unused space. Plus, when I mentioned the idea to Scarlett, I swear I saw stars in her eyes. She said it had always been her dream to run her own business. That’s all I needed to hear, and I immediately set about making it happen. It took a good year to get the place up and running, as well as transformed into a B&B, but now it runs like a tight ship and it’s perfect, except for the whole childcare issue. We had to hire a nanny when we first opened because we needed help with Luke while I’m working my shifts at the hospital. Scarlett’s mom made it clear that there was no way someone else was going to be taking care of her grandchild while she lived so close by. We had no choice but to agree. However, while I’m sure Scarlett had her years of annoying behavior and irresponsibility, her mama is busy living out her twenties while in her fifties, and that sometimes makes things a bit challenging for us. Thankfully, the staff and guests all love Luke, his white-blond curls, and big blue eyes. Not to mention, he’s got Scarlett’s mouth, so he’s just extra cute because of it.

I head downstairs, confirming the chef is already at work in the kitchen, then I set everything out at the computer to handle today’s records for Scarlett so she can just get moving when she comes downstairs. The number of times we are late to our own lives has increased twofold since we became parents. I was never late before I met Scarlett, but now it’s like my way of life. “Mr. Luke,” I address my son, tossing him into the air, “You are a little troublemaker like your mama.”

A fit of giggles erupts from Luke just as Scarlett jogs down the stairs. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“I’ll take Luke and Waldo outside until your mom is dressed and ready to take over.”

“You’re going to be late, though,” Scarlett says.

I walk over to her and kiss her softly. “Give Mama a kiss,” I tell Luke. “She thinks being late is something new for us. She’s a silly girl.”

“Silly Mama,” Luke babbles.

I take Luke outside, letting Waldo follow at my heels. There’s a warm breeze, and I take a seat on the front steps, staring up into the clouds. I can only hope Pop would want me to have what he wanted for his life. He’d love Scarlett and Luke, but making this house into a bed and breakfast full of happy people coming and going would also make him happy. I know that.

It’s the perfect endeavor for Scarlett, and kind of a memorial to remember Pop’s pride and daily happiness. I hope I’m half the man he was as I raise Luke with Scarlett.

“Do you’all want breakfast?” Scarlett asks, poking her head out the door.

I turn around and laugh. “No.”

“What?”

“It’s y’all.”

“That’s what I said,” she argues.

“Not it’s not,” I respond.

“I reckon you’re being a big a—pie-hole, Mr. Austin.”

“Heavens to Betsy, Scarlett. Watch your big ole’ mouth.”

“Austin Trace, I will manhandle you if you keep talking back to me like that. Get your behind inside and eat something before you go to work.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The door closes behind her, and I chuckle. She’s still trying to get the accent and local dialect down after three years, and it’s not working for her.

“Luke, let me tell you something son. If your mama wants to think she can manhandle us, we’ll let her think she can, but just remember … we know the truth, son.”