SIXTEEN
Rip
Monday it was my turn to go to work, and although there was a lot of chaos at the house, something pinched in my chest at the breakfast table.
The night before with Colby had been fun. More than fun. I hadn’t been able to stop smiling like a lunatic the rest of the night, even when Colby busted out Candy Land for everyone to play before bed and teased me relentlessly about losing a kids’ game.
I still smiled.
The kids thought it was hilarious that Uncle Rip didn’t know how to effectively get through the Lollipop Woods.
“Uncle Rip,” Ben laughed. “That’s not how you do it!”
“OK, Candy Land master.” I glared. “Then show me how.”
“Easy.” He laughed.
Colby joined in and winked at me as Ben did just that. He won twice before I was ready to look up game hacks online.
“OK, no more teasing Uncle Rip about losing,” Colby scolded. “Kids, go brush your teeth while we put the game away.”
“Awwww.” Complaints were heard as the kids stomped up the stairs.
“No fairs!” Viera said at the top.
Colby and I both said back in unison, “Fair. It’s no fair,” then shared a look, our hands colliding across Licorice Lagoon.
Our fingers barely grazed, but she didn’t pull back—neither did I. The room got smaller, my ability to breathe was nonexistent. Something was shifting, not just between us but with the entire family dynamic.
As if suddenly this was real.
It had felt like we were playing house, and doing it all wrong, but now it felt… right. It felt like everything I’d ever wanted with the least likely person by my side.
“Uncle Rip!” Viera wailed from the top of the stairs. “Stu pooped in my room!”
“Damn it, Stu.” I grunted and jumped to my feet. “He knows he has a litter box, right?”
“Ben,” Colby called up. “Did you close the laundry room door again?”
Tense quiet and then, “Maybe.”
“Then you clean the poop!” she called. “Stu needs access to his box, buddy.”
“Aww, man.” Grumble, grumble. “I hate cat poop.”
“Then keep the door open, sweetie.” Colby grinned and turned to me. Our hands were no longer touching, but I had this sudden urge to just toss everything from the board and tackle her to the ground.
Over cat poop?
Good parenting?
The fact that her cheeks were still flushed from earlier?
“Colby.” My voice cracked. “I’m—”
“—Uncle Rip, I need help.” Ben suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. “I forget how to clean.”
Colby sighed. “Just like he forgot how to put on his pants because he didn’t want to go to school.”