“Okay, we have chocolate concrete with brownies,” I say as I push the cup of ice cream across the tabletop to Levy. “Plain vanilla with caramel sauce for Rocco, and a banana split for Annabelle.”
I parcel out the ice cream and then spoons and napkins. It’s a required treat after we spent the last few hours roaming around the Durham Life and Science museum, looking at bears and wolves and lemurs, walking through the butterfly house and playing on all of the outdoor equipment.
I’m completely fucking wiped but the kids still look like they have a ton of energy.
They dig in, dipping their spoons in and then pulling out massive globs of ice cream and assorted goo that’s way too big for their mouths but still somehow manages to fit in.
I smile as I watch them and then give a quick check of my watch. Jules should be getting home within the hour and I’d hoped to have the kids all fed, bathed, and ready for bed by the time she got there, but we’re running late.
We’re running late because we had a seriously awesome fucking day today, and well…who wants to stop the awesome?
I didn’t think today would be as great as it turned out because if I’m being honest with myself, I’d rather be spending it with Jules and not three kids, who are very cute and a ton of fun, but they aren’t who I want to be spending the majority of my day with. The weekends are special opportunities for me and Jules because her schedule is far too hectic during the week to spend much time with me, and my weekends are hit or miss depending on our travel schedule. It’s sad to say that most of the time Jules and I are bonding via phone calls and FaceTime, which isn’t without merit. We’ve had conversations that have lasted a few hours at a time, which I know if we were together we’d spend it fucking, so in a way we’re getting to know each other even better.
Jules and I have shared so much over the phone, and it’s safe to say she knows more about me than anyone in my life maybe except my parents and siblings. I definitely know all about her too, which includes deep talks about death, loss, and grieving. We talk about Melody a lot actually.
She’s also let me know how scared she’s been these past months, having lost her best friend when Melody died, and not having anyone else to depend on. I learned all about her dad, whom she loves, there’s no doubt, but who you can tell is completely undependable. He’s on the road so much that he only sees Jules every few months and usually only for a few days at a time.
I was gone most of this past week with a three-game road trip, and thus I’d really, really wanted to have Saturday to spend with Jules. Sunday we have a home game, so that blows most of the day, which meant Saturday was my golden opportunity.
But then Jules told me last night, before the team boarded the plane to return to Raleigh, that Olivia and Stevie had invited her for a spa day with them, and she wanted to know what I thought about it.
And I most definitely had thoughts.
My initial and most selfish thought was “no fucking way” because I wanted Saturday with her, even if that included the kids, which it would.
But my second thought, and the one that ultimately felt right, was that Jules could really use a day off. She’s still working essentially two jobs, between the nursing home and painting at night, and she basically runs on fumes. A spa day of relaxation would do her a world of good, and “spa day” didn’t truly mean all day. It was really only about four hours and they’d booked it for the afternoon, so I could spend time with Jules that morning.
So I told her, “Baby…that sounds awesome.”
“Really?” she asked, and I could hear the worry in her voice. “You don’t think it’s frivolous? I mean…Stevie said he had some coupons, and I’ve sold more paintings than I had figured, so I have a little extra cash—”
“Jules,” I admonished her. “Will you just do something for yourself, please? You deserve this.”
She huffed, then was silent as she contemplated. I waited for her to think it through, and when she finally spoke, she utterly warmed my heart. “But that’s four hours I’ll be losing that I could spend with you.”
I had to give a little cough to clear my throat, but I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice when I said, “Jules…go to the spa, have a great time. I’ll take the kids and we’ll do something fun, so you can save on the babysitter.”
“You seriously want to take three rambunctious kids on for half a day?” she asked skeptically.
No.
“Of course I do,” I assured her. “I’ll come over and we’ll do breakfast, then hang for a while. Then we’ll do lunch. Then you’ll go get buffed and polished or whatever it is you do at a spa and I’ll handle the kids.”
“I have no idea what you do at a spa,” she said with a laugh. “I’ve never been.”
That made me sad. Someone like Jules deserved to be pampered, and I vowed that I’d make her regular spa appointments and watch the kids for her so she could get rejuvenated.
Ultimately, she agreed to go, and I got to spend the first half of the day with her, even if part of that time was spent hanging at her apartment so she could do laundry. I only conceded to this because Jules promised she’d come to tomorrow’s game with the kids, and in order to do that, she had to get some shit handled today. That included getting all the kids’ clothes washed and apparently it also meant the floors had to be vacuumed and mopped.
And even though part of my day with Jules included me helping her to do these things, there still wasn’t any place I’d rather be.
I watch as Annabelle attempts a massive spoonful of ice cream toward her mouth but it bobbles and starts to slip off the side. My hand shoots out just as it falls and I catch it square on my palm. She looks down at my hand and then back up to me with a grin. “Oops.”
I laugh, grab a handful of napkins and wipe my hand. “How about you take some smaller bites. There’s no rush to get it all down.”
“Can’t help it,” she says as she grabs another big spoonful. “It’s too good and we hardly get to eat ice cream.”
I blink at her in surprise and ask, “What do you mean hardly?”
“We get to eat ice cream,” Rocco says as he looks at me across the table. “But it’s usually the cheap stuff from the grocery store. Or Popsicles.”
“It’s all Aunt Jules can afford,” Levy adds matter-of-factly.
I look at all three kids, my gaze sweeping around the table, completely blindsided that this is a major treat for them and utterly astounded they understand the concept of Jules’ struggles.
“But it’s okay,” Rocco adds quickly, and I’m thinking he caught something on my face that has him struggling. “Aunt Jules takes really good care of us and she’d give us more if she could.”
“She will,” I say, my voice hoarse with uncertainty. “Her paintings are selling really well, and it’s just a matter of time. Maybe she’ll even be able to quit that job at Sweetbrier.”
“Nah,” says Rocco as he digs his spoon back into his ice cream. “She loves that place.”
“I don’t understand why,” Levy mutters. “She took us there one time to visit those old people and it stinks.”
Rocco elbows Levy in the ribs, and Levy throws a punch to Rocco’s shoulder and glares at him.
“They can’t help it,” Annabelle pipes up with a sweet voice, and I turn to look at her as she stares Levy down. “They’re old, and when you get old there’s some things you can’t help. Aunt Jules says we need to be nice to them.”
Levy’s head hangs down in shame and I find that fascinating. Rocco calls him on the carpet and he fights back. Annabelle dresses him down and he gets repentant.
“Well, here’s the thing,” I tell the kids as I continue to dab at my sticky palm with the napkin. “Your Aunt Jules loves you three very much, and so she’s working really hard to give you a good life. And I’m working really hard to help her out, because I care about her too.”
“Do you love her?” Annabelle asks, and whoa fuck…just…what the fuck?
“Um,” I stammer, then stammer again. “Um.”
“Well, do you?” Rocco asks somewhat aggressively. “Because I think she loves you.”
I jerk in my seat and there’s no denying the feeling of euphoria that spreads through me at that proclamation. I lean toward Rocco. “You do?”
“She talks about you all the time,” Rocco says with a sage nod. “And she’s always so happy when you call her.”
“And we’ve seen her kissing you,” Levy adds in. “You kiss people when you love them.”
“And she’s really happy now,” Annabelle offers in a sweet voice. “Since she met you, she smiles all the time.”
Jesus fuck.
These kids.
I put my elbows on the table and steeple my hands as I look at these three little wise and perceptive rug rats. I don’t know if they know what love is, but I have an inkling. I’m not sure if that’s what I would call what I feel for Jules or vice versa, but I know for sure it’s something damn close to that. I know I’ve never felt this before in my life, and I have to say…it’s utterly fucking reassuring that Annabelle has recognized her aunt is happier since she met me.
“So here’s the thing about your Aunt Jules and me,” I say carefully to the kids. “We care about each other a great deal, and I’m glad I make her happier. She makes me very happy too.”
“So you love her,” Levy presses, and because this kid wants an answer and because I can’t lie to him, I need to do a very quick evaluation of my feelings.
Jules is an amazing woman. Her attributes are many, varied and spectacular. She’s devoted to the kids, a hard worker, and totally gives of herself. Not a selfish bone in her fucking body.
She makes me laugh…so fucking hard.
She makes me smile just by being in her presence.
She also makes me hard just by being in her presence.
I think about her all the time and I constantly yearn to be with her.
I look forward to my future and try to imagine her not in it, and I just can’t do it.
Cannot even fucking envision it.
Even with all of the problems we face, and the limits on our time, and the fact that she comes with three kids, and I travel fifty percent of the time for my job, and things are so unstable for her right now…I cannot imagine being with anyone else but her.
I look Levy square in the eye and I tell him the truth. “Yeah, kid…I love her.”
I know it’s only been six weeks since I first met her, but I think I may have fallen a little in love with her that first night in the convenience store when I tried to help her peel the tape off Annabelle, and even though you could tell she was on the edge of defeat, she still had perseverance.
“You should tell her,” Rocco says.
“Don’t be afraid,” Annabelle says, and I turn to face her.
“I’m not afraid,” I assure her. “Just want it to be the right time, you know?”
She nods.
“So how about we keep this between ourselves, okay?” I ask the kids, turning to look at each one in succession.
I get three smiling nods in return.
“Okay, get cracking on those ice creams,” I tell them. “But we’re going to order pizza for dinner, and you each better eat at least one piece of pizza so your Aunt Jules doesn’t know I fed you ice cream this close to dinner.”