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I climbed out of my truck. “Hey, Dad. Already at it, I see?” I called out, unbuckling Katie from the back seat and lifting her out. Seeing her grandfather, she started flapping her arms in excitement.
“Paw-paw!” Her squeal of delight was infectious, and my dad immediately abandoned the hose and came over. He took her from my arms, giving her a loud, messy kiss on the cheek.
“How’s my Katie Bear?” he asked, tickling her sides to make her laugh. My dad was a gruff, hardworking man. His age had done nothing to diminish his large stature—both in size and in personality. He was a guy who had spent his whole life working with his hands as a contractor, and it was only a back injury ten years ago that ended his days of mixing concrete. Now he spent his hours plodding around in the garden and otherwise driving my mother up the wall. Dad wasn’t the kind of man who took to retirement well, particularly when it wasn’t his choice.
He wasn’t the kind of guy to tell you he loved you or dish out hugs. I got my sensitivity from my cookie baking, cuddle you when you were sick, mother. My dad was a man’s man. Except when it came to his granddaughter. Katie turned him into a giant pile of mush, who was happy to let her dress him up in a sparkly tiara and would sit with her for hours playing tea party. The first time I came home from work to find Dad with fake earrings dangling from his lobes, I thought I was having a stroke.
“What? I think they look nice on me,” Dad had replied seriously while Katie clapped her hands in pure child-like joy.
I was lucky that my parents doted on my child the way they did. It helped to fill the void in her life left by her absent mother.
I grabbed the diaper bag and followed Dad into the house. “Nommy made you your favorite cinnamon rolls,” he was telling her, holding the door open for me. The air was warm and smelled like my mother’s baking. It was every good memory of my childhood rolled up in one amazing scent.
“Nommy!” Katie called out. My mother appeared instantly, her lined face breaking into a grin reserved for my girl.
“There’s my favorite little girl in the whole wide world,” my mother exclaimed, plucking Katie from my dad’s arms. She hugged Katie tightly before kissing me on the cheek. “And there’s my favorite boy.” She patted my cheek indulgently.
“Nommy, hungy.” Katie patted her belly, and everyone laughed.
“Well come on then,” Mom said, heading to the kitchen. “I just put on a fresh pot of coffee. Do you have time to have some before work?” she asked me.
I looked at the time. “I’ve got a few minutes,” I answered, going straight for the cabinet and pulling out two mugs.
My mom sat Katie down in her highchair and promptly put a fluffy cinnamon roll down in front of her. My daughter dug in with relish, her pretty little mouth covered in cream cheese frosting.
“Nommy, yum!” Katie said with a grin.
Katie’s name for my mother tore at my heart every time I heard it. Mom had adopted the moniker Nanny when Katie was born—a proper name for a grandmother. But when Josie took off, leaving my mother as the primary female figure in her life, Nanny became mixed up with Mommy—becoming Nommy. It broke my heart that in Katie’s need for a mother, she had latched the name onto the closest female who hadn’t walked away from her.
Mom handed me a steaming mug of coffee. I took a sip. It was too sweet. There wasn’t a drink that my mother couldn’t ruin with too much sugar, but I drank it dutifully anyway.
“How’s work going?” she asked, licking icing from her thumb. “Have you started work on the town square yet? Milly says some of your men were digging up the box hedges yesterday.”
I finished the last dregs of my coffee and rinsed the cup before putting it on the drying rack. “I had Todd and Jeff doing some work there yesterday, but today’s my first day on-site. The town improvement committee only approved the plans on Monday.”
“Nommy, yum!” Katie cried, waving her hands in the air excitedly, meaning she wanted another cinnamon roll.
“You’ve had enough, sweetheart. Have some banana instead,” my mother cooed, peeling a banana, and handing it to my daughter, who munched happily. Once Mom’s hawkish attention was no longer fixed on Katie, it quickly sought the closest replacement.
Me.
“Have you heard from Josie?” she asked, a bite to her tone that was only noticeable when my ex-girlfriend was brought up. I felt my insides tightening, readying myself for her hearty disapproval. Even when it wasn’t focused on me, I had a physical reaction to my mom’s displeasure. Years of being a people pleaser had made me more than a little sensitive to it.
