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Since when have I been a person that is jumpy and scared of everything? I hate what this is doing to me. I am not this person and I refuse to let all of this change me. It is some bullshit that a knock on the door—one I am expecting—scares the ever loving shit out of me.
This has to end.
Even though I’m sure it’s Mick, I still check the peephole and am very pleased to see that it’s not Mick. It is one handsome looking man from Georgia holding our bags. If only his face looked a little lighter. He looks like he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I’d do anything to help ease that load for him. The problem is that I am part of the reason for that weight being so heavy. Again, I am a pain in the ass.
I open the door and say, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, as we stand in the doorway holding each other’s gaze. After a long moment, he says, “Mick wanted me to bring over some of your things.”
He looks exhausted.
“Oh, thanks for that. Come on in.”
The moment the door shuts, Ireland comes running to see who has arrived. The smile that spreads across her face is one so authentic and real that it nearly breaks my heart when she yells, “Jonafon!”.
She is just as in love with him as I am.
He drops the bags and squats down so that she can jump into his arms and she wraps her arms around his neck to give him a hug. I notice that her right arm is resting on his stitches, and I reach over and move her arm.
“Baby girl, be careful! Jonathan has a boo-boo and we have to be careful with him.” I then turn my attention to him and catch him watching me.
“How are you doin’, Georgia? I can’t believe I didn’t ask yesterday. Things were so crazy and then I just fell asleep on you. I’m so sorry I didn’t ask.”
“Hey, it’s all good. Don’t worry at all. I am healing just fine except for some headaches here and there. I’m on schedule with my recovery and will be back to work soon.”
“I’m glad you’re doing okay. What are you doing for the headaches?”
“Nothing right now. It’s not too bad though. Please don’t worry. That’s my job anyway; to worry about you two.”
Before I can protest and tell him that I don’t want that to be his job—he doesn’t need any more stress in his life right now—he tickles Ireland and says, “Don’t tell me it’s not my job, Emily, or Ireland here will get more tickles!”
Ireland screams and laughs at the same time while Jonathan goes in for the tickle and I hold my hands up and say, “Okay, I give up. I won’t say anything. Just don’t tickle the poor princess to death!”
“Princess? Did you say, Princess?” Jonathan stops his tickling and gets a very serious look on his face. He puts Ireland on her feet and then takes a bow in front of her and says, “Please forgive me, Princess. I should know better than to tickle the Princess of Happy Valley. Do forgive me?”
She giggles but loves when they play princess and says, “You are forgiven, Sir Jonafon.”
In mock relief, he thanks her for her kindness and gives her the backpack that’s filled with all of the things she requested. She thanks him, but suddenly has no interest in all of the things she had wanted from her room.
She takes Jonathan by the hand and pulls him to the couch. He follows her lead and takes a seat. She then proceeds to climb all over him while she chats about school, and how excited she is that next month it will be her turn to bring the class goldfish home for Thanksgiving week. A quick look of puzzlement crosses his face but is gone almost as fast as it arrived.
On the topic of the class goldfish, the conversation about snack foods begins as he reminds her that fishies are the best snacks ever. She disagrees and says that Teddy Grahams are the best. He agrees that they are in the top five, but that the number one will always be Goldfish.
They go on and on like this for what seems like forever, just like they always do. I never thought I would be jealous of my daughter, but at the moment, when I’m feeling so unsure of where things stand between the two of us, I do feel a twinge of jealousy. I hate to feel it, but she is getting all of his attention, and I feel like I’m left floundering with all of my emotions about to bubble over.
Finally, I try to come to his rescue and mine.
“Baby girl, let’s give Jonathan a break. Tell him thank you for bringing our things over for Uncle Mick, but he probably needs to get going now.”
He looks up at me, and I feel the blush flooding my cheeks. I hope that he can’t read my mind, and that he didn’t hear the sharpness that came out in my tone. It wasn’t intentional, but I heard it. I just hope he didn’t.
While they were having the chat of their life, my mom came home and has just walked back into the room when Jonathan stands form the couch and addresses her.
“Hey Cheryl, do you mind if I borrow Emily for a little bit?”
“I don’t mind a bit, Jonathan,” mom replies.
“Is it okay if we leave Ireland with you while we go for a walk?”
