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“Sometimes having a girls’ night in is just as nice as a girls’ night out. And speaking of, we need to go get pedicures soon.”
“Like today? It’s hot as hell and your father looks like he’s got Brody entertained for now,” she said.
“Papa! You gotta catch it!” Brody exclaimed.
My father bent down to pick up the football before his eyes met mine. I smiled and waved at him before he launched the ball, sending it flying through the air and straight into the arms of my son. Brody did have his father’s athletic capabilities, and the more I watched him, the more I was reminded of the real reason we had come over for the day.
To ask my parents to watch him Monday night.
I wasn’t sure if I should tell them about Tyler, though. I danced between telling them that Kristi wanted another night with me since our last one had flopped and telling them I had a date but not mentioning who.
I knew if I told them about Tyler and that he was back in town for good, they would side with Kristi. My father more so than anyone else. He had made it very clear to me on several occasions that if I ever got the chance to introduce Brody to Tyler, I should do it. My mother was a little more on the fence with things but still didn’t agree with my never telling Tyler about his son.
At the very least, she thought Tyler deserved to know.
I wasn’t ready to hear more people side with Tyler instead of me.
“He’s getting so big. He’s going to be a monstrous child,” my mother said.
“I feel like every time he wakes up, he’s a little bigger.”
“Whenever he’s with me, everyone is shocked that he’s only eight. A lot of people think the kid is ten, eleven years old!”
“Dad tells me the same thing. And Brody got that all the time as a baby. Even when he was two, other kids would come up and talk to him, then get upset when he didn’t talk back. I had to explain to them that he was only two and didn’t know how to talk in full sentences, and the parents were always stunned when I said that.”
“Because he’s huge. Like his father.”
I winced at her words and was thankful for the sunglasses covering my face.
“Dad! Watch out!”
The football knocked him straight in his chest, and he bent over, gasping for breath. I set my drink down and went running out to him as Brody jogged up. I rubbed my father’s back, and a massive smile crossed his face. Brody dropped to his knees to get up underneath his grandfather’s face.
“You okay, Papa?”
“Yeah, son. I’m fine. You’ve really got an arm on you. Ever thought about playing baseball?” he asked.
“No. I like football better,” Brody said.
“Dad, you okay?” I asked.
“Quit babyin’ the man! He’s good,” my mother called out.
“Just because you’re too lazy to come check on your husband doesn’t mean I won’t!” I called back.
“It’s too hot to be doing all this running around. Who’s ready for food?” my mother asked.
“Me!” Brody exclaimed.
“You’re always ready for food,” I said, grinning.
“That’s because he’s a growing boy.” My father stood upright. “Isn’t that right, Brody?”
“Yep. I’m going to grow big and strong like Papa one day.”
“You’re already big and strong like Papa,” I said as I winked at my father.
“You got that right. Come on, let’s go see what Grammie’s whipping up for lunch,” he said.
Everyone shuffled into the house and we all sighed at the air conditioning. I told Brody to go upstairs to wash his hands and clean himself up a bit. He had some spare outfits in the dresser in his room, and he needed to change before he sat down at the table to eat. He ran upstairs and my eyes followed him, clocking the fact that his legs looked a little longer than they had a few days ago.
If that boy didn’t stop growing, I’d go bankrupt trying to clothe him.
“Is he taller?” my mother asked.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” my father said.
“I think he is. Which means more clothes,” I said.
“It seems like all that boy does is grow,” my mother said.
“You need us to get this round of clothes?” my father asked.
“No, Daddy, but thank you. I’ve got it, I promise,” I said.
“Well, you know if you need help, we’re always here,” he said.
“In that case, would it be possible for you guys to watch Brody tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Sure. Your father’s got a poker game with the guys, but I’ll be here. We can have a movie night,” my mother said.
“What’s the occasion? Kristi trying to get you out again?” Dad asked.
“Actually, no. I have a date.”
Their jaws dropped in unison before my mother stepped up to the plate.
