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“A child. I married a giant man child.”
I turned and crawled back onto the bed and hovered over her. My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I stared down at her.
“You love this giant man child. And his…what did you call it…joystick?”
My eyebrows jumped as her face turned a beautiful shade of pink. She reached up to caress my cheek and I melted into the touch.
“I do love you.” Her eyes twinkled. “And your joystick.”
I shifted so my weight rested on my forearms and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “That’s good to know. I’d hate to think I was losing my appeal.” I moved to the side, pulling her against me in the process.
My Ginger pulled back and tilted her head up to look at me. “As if you really think that could ever happen.” She snuggled back against me and rested her hand over my heart. “Besides, your looks and…prowess are simply a bonus.”
I gave a light chuckle and hugged her tighter. She’d come a long way, but under the surface her doubts and insecurities lingered. Making sure she always felt loved and secure was a job I remained honored to have.
I let the silky strands of her hair flow through my fingers. “You rest, I’ll make dinner and take care of Lil Man the rest of the evening.”
“It’s cramps, Mal. I’ll survive.”
“I know, but I like taking care of you.”
She smiled up at me with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Fine. If you insist. Let me guess, easy-to-fix Hamburger Helper or something of the sort?”
“Only the best
for my lady.”
With a parting kiss to her forehead, I rolled out of our bed and headed back downstairs. Luckily Shawn was still sleeping, and I started rummaging through the kitchen to figure out dinner. I laughed quietly; she had so little faith in my cooking ability.
Ginger came downstairs as I was putting the plates on the table. A slow smile spread across my face when I saw my jar in her hand. Lil Man reached his chubby little arms out in his mom’s direction, whining as he squirmed to get out of his confinement in the high chair. She set the jar on the island before walking over to give him attention. She looked better. The traces of sadness were gone and genuine happiness rested on her features as she talked to our son. Ours. He carried my last name, same as his mother. A change I’d been surprised she’d suggested despite the adoption, considering the other things she held onto in relation to his sperm donor—I refused to give him the title of anything more—and the “legacy” she said belonged to Shawn.
I glanced in their direction, the two of them having an intense conversation about the toy puppy he held. The sight of them was an instant balm to my soul. I picked up their plates and carried them to the table. She smoothed his hair to the side before glancing down at the meal in front of her and back up to me, the expression changing to one of utter surprise.
“Pork chops, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables. You’ve been holding out on me.”
I sat across from her. “Hey, you all assumed I couldn’t cook. Just because I don’t really like to doesn’t mean I can’t.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You certainly did very little to dispel that myth.”
I shrugged. “Well, to be fair, you haven’t tasted it yet.”
My statement had her eyeing the plate with new suspicion. She scooped up some of the potatoes, sniffed, then took a small bite. The fork fell, she grabbed her throat, and started choking. My eyes went wide before she started laughing.
I looked over at Shawn—whose hands were covered in the white substance—as he giggled alongside her. “Your mom thinks she’s funny.”
She picked up her fork and resumed eating. “I’m a little funny.”
Dinner was edible, but Ginger wouldn’t be giving up her job of being the main cook anytime soon. Because I cooked, she cleaned, even though I told her I’d do it. She happily threw my line about division of labor back at me.
When she joined us in the living room she had the jar in her hand. The Paw Patrol DVD played, keeping Lil Man’s attention even though we’d watched the damn thing too many times to count. He rested against me, holding on to his action figures, gleefully making them act out what was on the screen.
She settled on the other side of me. “Can’t wait to see what you have in store for me next. I know I’m out of commission right now, but I seem to need prep time for your stuff anyway. So, I figured…” Her words died out and she looked down at the jar, tilting it from side to side.
Nervous babbling, another tell.
I sighed and ran the back of my knuckles across her cheek. “You sure you’re okay?”
A smile and a nod. She shook the jar before unscrewing the lid. Closing her eyes, Ginger reached in and pulled free a blue paper, then placed the jar beside her. We stared at each other as she unfolded it, then she looked down at the slip in her hand. Because of her soft gasp and widened eyes, my curiosity piqued and I plucked it from her fingers.
