Page 48 of Grouch-ish

“That’s because putting out fires and saving people’s lives makes you a superhero. To me.”

Chapter 13

[Brock]

Fuck. She can’t mean it, and I kiss her mouth to distract myself from how the word sounds in my head.

Superhero.

We kiss for a few minutes more before I break free and pull her hands from my face. Her fingertips are shriveled.

“I’m waterlogged,” I admit. “And you’re becoming a raisin.”

Pear giggles, leans forward to kiss me one more time, and then hikes her legs over the side of the hot tub. She rushes for a towel and then adds a blanket around herself while I step out of the tub as well. I’m surprised I’m not as cold as I expected, and glance up to find a heating lamp on in the overhang above us.

Note to self: turn that off as it’s a fire hazard if left unattended.

I don’t need to worry as Pear flips that magical switch once we enter the house and I demand she shower first.

“I want to call my kids anyway.”

Today marks a new year, and while the day isn’t very exciting, as far as holidays go, being that most people celebrated last night, I still want to check in with them. I’d spoken with them the day I arrived, but they were too wrapped up in the excitement of their mother’s wedding to give me more than five minutes on the phone.

Pear understands and I head to Cap’s room when she enters the bathroom.

“Dad?” Nick answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Nicky.”

“Dad,” he drones tightly.

I’m not allowed to call him Nicky anymore. Nick. He started going by the short, sharp name in high school, but six years later I’m still struggling not to call him by the nickname.

“Hi. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year. I didn’t expect to hear from you.”

“Are you busy?” I ask, staring down at my lap. I removed both the wet towel and my drenched boxer briefs, opting for the throw blanket around my belly to keep me warm until it’s my turn for the shower.

“Nah. I’m putting you on speaker phone. Ellie is here.”

“Hey, baby,” I address my girl, finding my throat thickening for some reason.

“Hi, Daddy.” Eighteen-years old and she still calls me daddy sometimes. That lump in my throat becomes a heavy rock. “We didn’t think you’d be able to call us from the probation camp.”

“Restorative justice,” I correct. For some reason, I don’t explain my current situation. Instead, I quip, “But I was given time off for good behavior.”

Ellie giggles. Nick remains silent.

“How was the wedding?” The rock clogging my throat drops to a boulder in my belly. I don’t really want to know about my ex-wife and my best friend’s nuptials, but I’m trying to be polite.

A moment of silence passes, and I can almost envision my kids sharing a glance, deciding how to answer me. I’m opening my mouth, prepared to say it doesn’t matter, when Nick replies.

“Mom looked beautiful. Kenny, too.”

“I bet.” Melissa was always a beautiful woman. I’d never paid attention to Kenny’s appearance. She was one of the guys. My best friend. I didn’t see her in any way other than a nice-looking woman but not someone I was attracted to. Apparently, Melissa found her attractive, though.

“You guys don’t happen to have a picture of the two of you together, do you?” I hold my breath, knowing my kids both stood up in the small ceremony. In a flash, a text message pops up in the header of my phone.