My wife picked Emmylou’s name. She said it was in memory of my adoptive parents.
That nearly broke me.
Ma lost her beloved husband too soon and still found room in her heart for a stray kid like me. She loved me fiercely until her last breath.
“I’ll take it upon myself to make sure our little clan takes a nap after lunch,” I say. “That includes Ziggy and Stark.”
We have a bunch of one hundred percent Heinz 57s from the shelter, running around the property, but yesterday, we got a pair of Border Collie puppies. One of Hunter and Jake’s dogs had a litter a month ago.
“Rhett, those puppies fall asleep at the drop of a hat. You know perfectly well the kids would negotiate with the devil if it meant they could skip out on their naps.”
“No naps, Mommy,” Maxson says. “We want to play with Daddy and the puppies all day.” He turns to look at his siblings.
Madoc and Marlon nod their little heads like bobblehead dolls.
Emmylou lifts her little hands in the air. “Play all day.”
Carina arches an accusatory eyebrow at me.
Shit.Time for damage control.
“Now, Maxson, we’ve talked about this, son,” I say. “You don’t speak on behalf of your brothers and your sister. And if Mommy or Daddy decide it’s time for you to take a nap, that’s exactly what you’ll do. Is that clear?”
Maxson hangs his head low. “‘Kay,” he says, his blue eyes peering up at me from under his long lashes.
You’d think the troubles of the world weighed heavy on his little shoulders.
I stifle a laugh.
Nonna Ambrosia steps outside. “Lunch is ready.Andiamo a mangiare,bambini.”
“Come on inside, kids.” Grandpa Victor’s voice booms. “Let’s wash those tiny hands so we can eat. Bisnonna prepared homemade ravioli.”
I thank God every day my kids are blessed enough to know their great-grandparents.
The boys wave their little hands in the air.
“Mangia, mangia, mangia.” Emmylou skips back to the house, Ziggy and Stark in tow.
Since there are a lot of Callahans in New York to help Carina’s brothers with their growing families, both sets of grandparents and her parents rotate their time down here to give us a hand.
My wife’s mom and dad stayed with us for four months after she gave birth to the triplets. My in-laws’ firsthand experience was a lifesaver.
When our daughter was born, both sets of Carina’s grandparents descended at the same time for the rescue. Three babies and a newborn are an unmanageable situation for dog-tired, weary, and unseasoned parents.
My daughter stops at the threshold of the farmhouse and turns around. “Daddy.”
“Yes, baby girl?”
“Water Emmylou vroom?”
I chuckle.
My daughter is convinced we named Emmylou after her. Neither of us has the heart to contradict her.
I place both hands on my hips, my eyes landing on my beloved truck.
“We’ll take care of it later.”
