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With that, I made my way through the house.
I’d spent a long fucking time designing this house, wanting it to be perfect. The kind of place the kids came back to on the holidays, bringing their spouses and kids, a home base for all future generations.
It had the two of us all over it.
The exposed brick walls and leather accents that I preferred. The extreme organization, throw pillows, and delicate accents that Everleigh loved so much.
There was a giant kitchen where I spent a lot of my time, a family and living room, big back deck, and a fenced yard where Betty could often be found, basking in the sun.
Upstairs, we had five bedrooms and three baths. Because we’d always known we were going to have several kids.
I walked into the primary bedroom, expecting to find Everleigh passed the hell out across the bed.
But she was sitting there on her side of the bed, picking chocolates out of the massive postpartum care basket that Colter had brought over for her, remote in hand, and a guilty look on her face.
“TheCountdown to Christmasstarted yesterday,” she said. “We’ve already missed two new small town Christmas romances.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” I said, kicking out of my shoes, and walking to my side of the bed.
“One movie. Then sleep,” she said.
We didn’t even make it all the way through the opening credits.
But, fuck, there was no one in the world I’d rather fall asleep watching cheesy Christmas movies with than Everleigh.
Everleigh - 25 years
“Hey, honey. What’s the matter?” I asked as our girl came walking into the kitchen after getting dropped off by her youngest older brother, drunk on his freedom as a new driver, and who likely already taken the car to drive to the clubhouse to hang out with his older brothers.
Our little girl, kind of always the odd-man-out these days. It had to be difficult being fourteen while everyone else was almost, or was completely, grown.
She flung herself onto the kitchen stool, yanking the baseball cap off of her head, and tossing it onto the countertop before bracing her chin in her hand, and letting out one of those world-wary sighs only a teenager was capable of.
“Can we go shopping?” she asked.
“For what? New sneakers?” I asked.
Alas, the little girl I’d waited many years to have never did get into girly stuff. The only kind of shoes she collected were sneakers. And, sure, she kept her hair on the long side, but it was always pulled back and then typically stuffed under some sort of hat.
“Bugs for your lizard?” I asked, proud of myself for not shivering while talking about that unsavory errand.
All the pets in the world to choose from, and she wanted something that atebugs. To avoid me having to brave that aisle of the pet store, Detroit had set up a service that had them delivered through the mail. But sometimes her scaly friend got extra greedy, and she ran out early.
“No,” she said, gaze moving away as she tapped her fingers on the counter.
“What do you want to shop for then, honey?”
“New clothes?”
“New clothes?” I asked, confused. School had just started a few weeks ago, and we’d done the requisite ‘back to school’ shopping over the summer, getting her tons of new clothes. “Are yours not fitting anymore?” I pressed when she said nothing else. To me, she looked about the same size, but, well, I wasn’t the one trying to put her jeans on every morning. And she liked her tops baggy, so it was hard to tell if maybe she’d gained or lost a few.
“No, they fit,” she said, drawing something on the countertop with her fingertip.
“Hey,” I said, reaching across the counter to close my hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. “You can talk to me, remember?” I said, watching her gaze slip up, then back down.
“I just… I want more… girly clothes,” she said, voice tiny.
It didn’t matter that some part of me had wanted this day to come for fourteen years. It wasn’t joy that filled me right then.
