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Bobby
Our Happily Ever After
June – Six months after Kit’s injuries
Me:Hey, sexy socks. I miss you.
Kit:Miss you too, but go away. I’m trying to concentrate.
Me:Youdon’t need to concentrate. Jack does!
Kit:Yes, well,I’mconcentrating in case he doesn’t. Otherwise we both die.
Kit:If I do die, please don’t find love again. I want you to be miserable without me. Think of me often. Create a shrine in my memory. If you touch a single pair of boobs that aren’t mine, I’ll come back to haunt you and pee in your cereal.
p.s. Can you unload the dishwasher? Please.
Me:Relax, baby. It’s just… driving.
p.s. That’s gross. The peeing; not the boobs.
p.p.s. Can I touch your boobs? Right now?
Kit:Yeah… but… I’m scared.
Thisscares her? Of all the things in this world, after everything she endured last year, she’s scared of taking Jack for a driving lesson?
She’s the strangest person I know.
I wouldn’t change a thing.
Jack turned sixteen earlier this year, and since his birthday was kind of eclipsed with other things – namely, his sister needing surgery to heal a shoulder that was messed up so badly, it’ll probably never heal right – Kit felt bad that his day was such a non-event, so we decided to surprise him with his first car – my old Rav.
He was so excited, I swear he did the ‘little girl wee-dance.’ Clasped hands, knees together, hobble and jump because you’re so excited you might piss yourself. Big-bad-Jack Reilly withallthat attitude sure knows how to squeal like a girl when the incentive is exciting enough.
After a test at the DMV and a surprise party, we sat around, ate pizza, bitched him out for being a whiny baby for no reason other than to give him shit, and when he thought the partywasthe surprise, we tossed the keys at his head and sent him out to the driveway.
It was a fun reprieve from an otherwise serious start to the year.
January was hard for us all; Kit was still so sore and tired from the injuries she sustained in December. Emotions were still running high; she’d been taken against her will, beaten, stabbed, and in her escape, hit by a damn car, and as a result, was asleep for three weeks straight.
It was the longest three fucking weeks of my life.
After she woke and came home, Jack and I spent every minute fussing over her. We sent her crazy with our constant nagging and fussing and readjusting of pillows. We were terrified that she might go back to sleep, and because of that fear, we might’ve been a little…naggy.
In the end, Kit promised that if we didn’t“back the fuck up and stop watching her sleep,”she’d“kill us dead and shove our balls in a blender. Together.”
That did it.
Our intentions were good, but our delivery only resulted in making our tired girlmoretired, so we let her be. She doesn’t know I still watch her sleep, but what she doesn’t know won’t end up with my balls touching my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s.
The darkest January of my life rolled into February. February was much,muchbetter. I asked my girl to marry me. And she said yes.
She said yes!
Hol-Leeeeeee-Shit!
