KACE. There are people who are always looked up to by their friends, family and associates based on what they have earned, obtained, or acquired. The amount of money or belongings a person has is in no way a means of measuring their worth as a person. I would like to live in a world where people could obtain points for being kind, considerate and caring. The people with the most points would be viewed by their peers as being more valuable based on their ability to actually provide something meaningful to the world they live in.

Having a family and doing things as a family is something I have always wanted, but never really had. Josh and I were in a relationship since I was a teenager. He prevented me from seeing my mother, which caused our relationship to deteriorate. Although I have seen her since Shane and I met, she hasn’t expressed any desire to spend much time with me. I took Casey to see her once, but she has yet to come see him on her own. As disappointing as this may be, I am grateful I have my adopted family – even though they may be crazy.

“Hand me the taters, and pass Casey this way, Katie,” Ripp’s father said.

“Pop, he ain’t a bong. Stop passin’ that damned kid around the table like your hittin’ a joint,” Ripp grunted.

I laughed as I watched Katie hand Casey to Manda, who handed him to Vee, who handed him to Ripp’s father. Without a doubt, Casey would grow up more loved and cared for than most babies. Seeing this type of acceptance from the group was very satisfying to me. As Vee handed the baby to Mr. Ripton, he held him with one arm while he ate with the other.

“You shouldn’t smoke marijuana, Michael,” Ripp’s mother said.

“I ain’t smokin’ pot, mom. I’m talking about passin’ that kid around like a fuckin’ joint. We ain’t at a college frat party hittin’ a bong. Put the kids down and let’s fuckin’ eat. Jesus,” Ripp chuckled.

“Don’t cuss in front of the god damned kids, Mike,” Mr. Ripton snarled.

Ripp’s mom looked up over her fork and shook her head at Mr. Ripton. Shane started to laugh so hard he began to choke. Before long, the entire table was laughing.

“What?” Mr. Ripton said as he shoved another spoon full of mashed potatoes into his mouth and looked around the table.

“You cussed to get us to stop cussing,” I smiled.

“I did not. Now let’s eat.”

Alec sat with Jessie in his lap, his chair placed away from the table more than everyone else’s. As he picked at his food, he talked softly to the baby and listened to everyone else talk. Alec didn’t always talk, and when he did, he generally just answered a question someone asked him directly. If he ever spoke for very long, it was almost always a war story that he tried to relate to the topic being discussed. Lately I have seen change in him, and I must say I like it. I think all of the babies around have softened him up. He spends a lot of time around our house with Shane now, and always offers to watch Casey so Shane and I can go out to eat or on a date.

Having friends and family like Alec and Ripp is what I always dreamed of. I turned to Shane and smiled, secretly hoping times like this could last forever and ever. Some things just seem too good to last. This meal with family and level of love I see is one of those things.

“So, Alec. Are you ever going to pop the question?” Ripp’s father asked as he cut his chicken breast.

Alec looked up from Jessie, “Sir?”

Oh crap, this is going to be good.

“Katie. Are you ever going to ask her to marry you, or are you just going to keep rentin’ her?” he laughed.

I turned toward Alec and grinned. The entire table was silent, waiting for an answer to a much unexpected question.

Well?

“Dad,” Katie sighed.

Ripp’s mother continued to look down at her plate and eat quietly. She never really does much, and always stays fairly quiet. I think even though she spends a lot of time staring down at her plate, she really pays attention to everything around her.

“It’s my intent to do so someday, yes. When I feel everything is in order, you’ll be the first to know, sir,” Alec responded.

“Son of a bitch, Pop. What a way to put a guy on the spot. Holy fuck, let A-Train eat,” Ripp said as he gnawed at a piece of chicken.

Uh oh.

“No cussing at the table, Michael. And no nick names,” Ripp’s mother said quietly.

“Well fuck, ma,” Ripp laughed.

Oh shit, Ripp. You’re going to get in trouble.

“Mike,” Ripp’s father howled.

Told you.

“Alright. I’m just sayin’, let the man be. Alec. Or whatever his real fuckin’ name is,” Ripp shook his head and dropped the chicken bone onto his plate.

As I watched Ripp, I smiled. When Shane was in the hospital and Ripp came to comfort me was the first time I really spent time with him without Shane present. I was scared at first, but as time passed I realized he was simply trying to protect Shane from harm and prevent me from being in pain. When he told the lady behind the counter to call the police, I wondered about him maybe being crazier than I had originally thought. When he told her to call in the S.W.A.T. team because he really hated cops, I was sure he was crazy.

But Ripp is just Ripp. He’s big and mean to most people but soft as a big teddy bear to us girls. I wouldn’t trade Ripp for anything. As Shane rubbed my inner thigh with his hand, I smiled and tilted my head toward him.

I love you. His lips formed the words, but he didn’t speak.

I smiled and gave him a light kiss.

Shane leaving me was something I thought I would never recover from. I suppose Shane is no different than any other person, he’s human. Sometimes he seems superhuman to me, but he’s not. He makes mistakes like the rest of us, he just doesn’t make very many. When he makes them, he makes big ones. I had forgiven him completely for what he did, and for the most part, I’d already forgotten it. Shane was scared and he handled it differently than I did. No different than his father, Shane ran from what he didn’t feel comfortable attempting to understand or accept.

“I saw that,” Vee smiled.

“It was a peck. We weren’t making out,” I whispered.

Vee smiled and glanced at Alec, who still held Jessie. As she lay in his forearms, he gently rocked her back and forth and leaned toward Bug and kissed her on the lips.

“I saw that,” Vee laughed.

Vee and I had become like sisters. She was intelligent, kind, and understanding of whatever I chose to talk to her about, regardless of the topic. She didn’t understand Shane’s leaving as well as I did, and still held a little bit of a grudge, but she didn’t hate him. I imagine as time passes, she’ll warm up to him again and things will be the same as they were before. For now, she’s a good sister to me, and I love her with all my heart. I look forward to many years of us playing with our kids while Shane and Ripp ride their bikes and train for the next match.

Vee and I had spent many hours together before we had our babies talking about being mothers. Both being new mothers, and feeling as if we had no one to turn to for advice, decided we would eagerly assist each other. As our children grew older, considering their ages being the same, we felt we could help each other immensely. We would encounter the same issues and concerns at roughly the same stages in growth. Admittedly, we were both scared to death, and had reservations about our ability to provide sufficient care to our soon to be born children.

I spent the majority of my pregnancy worrying about what mistakes I was going to certainly make.

When I was a little girl, I caught a moth and held it cupped in my hands for the majority of the morning. I was probably six or seven at the time. As I made my way through the day, I carefully carried the moth with me everywhere I went. I was limited on what was able to do, because both of my hands were occupied in keeping the moth captive.

I convinced myself the moth was mine, similar to a child. I had every intention of keeping it forever, and watching it grow old with me. I imaged building a large cage later in the day out of a cardboard box and some old window screen from the garage. During the morning, however, I felt as if I needed to keep the moth close to me.

Content with the new addition to the family, I went to my room to listen to music. Often, as a little girl, music was my escape. My way of relaxing and developing a deeper belief of the world being a place of beauty, serenity and dance was to listen to my radio. Typically, I would spin in circles as the music played, watching the hem of my dress flare out as my legs tried desperately to hold me from falling. Inevitably, I would fall, and today was no exception. After thirty minutes or so of dancing with my moth, I sat on the edge of my bed. Exhausted from dancing, I eventually flopped onto my back on the bed and held the moth as I closed my eyes and relaxed into a dream like state.

When my mother had lunch prepared, she called me to come and eat. As I lay on the bed still under the comfort of music, I slowly pulled my thumbs apart to peer into the comfortable home I had developed for the moth to live in.

I couldn’t believe what I had done. Emotionally crushed, I opened my hands fully and stared at my palm. The moth, from either the many times I fell, or from the sweat which developed in my hands – or potentially both – had died. Wet and lifeless, it lay against my palm, stuck to my wet skin.

Softly, I began to cry. Slowly, I walked to the bathroom and got some tissue. As I folded the moth in the tissue, I realized if left alone the moth would still be fluttering through the yard; living a life no differently than any other moth in the neighborhood. I was convinced the moth had died as a result of my poor nurturing skills.

I placed the moth filled tissue in the wooden box at the foot of my bed, in my diary. As I walked into the kitchen filled with shame, I accepted the fact I could never be a parent of any form of living being and do so effectively. As a result, I have never allowed myself to have a pet as an adult.

Upon learning of my pregnancy, it was only a short time and the moth came to mind. I wondered if it may be an accurate representation of my lack of ability to be an effective mother.

I glanced across the table toward Ripp’s father. “Pass me the joint,” I chuckled.

Yeah, I think I’ll be just fine.