Page 57 of You & Me: Part Two

In a huff, she walks away. I swear I can hear her pouting until her bedroom door clicks shut.

I can’t help but laugh. She is so damn cute!

“Frances, I think I am falling into like with her. I mean serious like. I don’t just love her, but I like her a hell of a lot too. I may end up feeling just like I did last time. Then again, I might not. I think it’s worth the risk, old girl. How about you?”

We’re walking hand in hand on a California beach with the waves gently crashing over our feet. Holding her hand and having her near me is enough to calm all the fear and anxiety I feel in my everyday life.

Fear that I will lose somebody else that I care about.

Fear that I will let another person that I care about down.

Fear that I will lose her again.

When I’m here, in our place, with her hand in mine, all of that fear goes away.

Tonight the dream feels more vivid than ever. I can smell her all around me, and the little things about her that were starting to fade over the years are back in HD and stereo. I can hear her laugh again, the way she calls me Georgia, or the look in her eyes when I tell her how I feel. Only there isn’t any fear, just love and trust pouring back from her.

Something new is happening in tonight’s dream though. In the distance, I hear a low cry almost like a whimper. I can feel the panic start to rise in my chest as I hear her comforting words say, “It’s okay, baby. We’ll take care of this. Shhh…”

My eyes fly open in confusion and just like that I am back on Mick’s couch and see light coming from down the hall. I can hear Ireland crying.

“Sorry, momma.”

Rushing down the hall on high alert—because the thought of Ireland unhappy unsettles me in a way that is new to me—I reach her room and see that Frances and Frank have beaten me there. They seem just as concerned about the situation as I do.

Emily has stripped her out of her clothes and Ireland is standing in the middle of her room naked and crying. I quickly turn my back so that Ireland isn’t uncomfortable.

“Everything okay?”

“We just had a little accident. I should have woken her up and made her go to the bathroom. It’s my fault and she’s still half asleep. I’m just going to get her cleaned up and change her sheets. Go on back to bed, we got this.”

It’s clear that she’s used to doing everything on her own. It doesn’t even occur to her that she has another person here that can help her.

Watching her with Ireland the last couple of days has been awe-inspiring. She is such a good momma she doesn’t even think about asking for help. I know that staying here with Mick isn’t easy for her. I’m glad to see that she has the self-worth to want to better herself by getting her masters, even if that means taking help from her big brother so that she and Ireland have a better life.

God, I want to be a part of that better life and would give anything to be there to support her through it all. If only she’ll let me.

“Why don’t you go get her cleaned up and I’ll strip the bed?” I offer.

As she walks Ireland past me and into the bathroom, she looks over her shoulder and mouths her thanks to me. While the girls are cleaning up and getting Ireland into some clean pajamas, I strip her bed, take the sheets to the laundry room, and start the wash. It feels good to be able to help, even in this small way.

When I return, Ireland is curled up in her pink bean-bag chair and Emily is scrubbing the bed. I ask where the clean sheets are and she directs me to the linen closet down the hall. Being pink, and therefore hard to miss, I manage to find them quickly. I deliver the sheets to Ireland’s room, and Emily and I quickly make the bed together.

Ireland has fallen back asleep so I pick her up, carry her to her bed and we tuck her in. I wish I could decipher the feeling I get carrying this sleeping beauty to her bed. It feels like I’ve known this little one her whole life. It just feels natural to take care of her.

Once Emily’s turned her light off and closed her door, I follow her to the bathroom where we wash our hands and Emily splashes cold water on her face. She seems unsure of herself as we walk back out into the hall and she lets out an exasperated sigh as she presses her back to the wall.

“See what a glamorous life I lead, Jonathan? You sure you really want to be spending time with a single mom whose wild nights consist of Downton Abbey followed up with changing a wet bed in the middle of the night?”

“I think you’re pretty lucky to fill your days and nights with that amazing little girl in there. Even if that means changing a wet bed in the middle of the night. Seems like a pretty good life to me. And yes, I am sure I want to try again and I know that includes that little Princess in there.”

“Jonathan…”

I cut her off by pressing a soft kiss to her lips to stop her from saying whatever doubtful words were about to come out of her mouth.

“Go back to bed, Gracie.”

Pink blossoms over her cheeks—as they did early tonight when I called her Gracie—and I turn to walk away leaving her leaning against the wall. Hopefully, she’s getting it through her head that I really do want to try, with or without wet beds in the middle of the night.

---