Page 82 of Under the Influence

My heart clenches at how sweet the name sounds. I answer her with a kiss. My arms wrap around her and enjoy how the waiting is over. I’m like an excited kid when I imagine her at my place tonight. The baby is no longer a scary thing. Something shifted in me yesterday. Once I claimed Edith in front of her people and mine, I felt unburdened.

“They’re both good names,” I say after our lips part. “Makes sense to try and use them both.”

Edith leans against me and sighs. “Let’s make sure I can handle one.”

“You might feel like you’ve lost your way, but you’re still Edith. Not so long ago, right there in that spot,” I say and point at where we first met, “you stole my heart. I tried to be sensible, but you make me crazy. And that’s okay. We’re allowed to lose ourselves over important stuff. Don’t be so hard on yourself over acting a little crazy.”

Edith grins at my words. In an ideal world, we could spend the next few weeks hanging out in both of our safe spaces. No pressure or worries. Much like Lola and Val did. They feel comfortable together in a way I’ve never known in marriages within my own family. I’d like to get to that point with Edith.

Before we can bond that way, we’ll need to share lunch with her parents.

Journey and Donovan have patiently waited on their back deck while Edith and I talked and kissed halfway to their place. They stand in unison when we finally arrive at the back steps with the sandwich bags.

“I apologize for your sandwiches getting cold,” I tell them. “But I got distracted.”

Donovan doesn’t react while Journey offers me a small smile. Edith doesn’t seem bothered by their lack of enthusiasm. She only has eyes for me.

“Duke is cooking dinner,” Edith tells her mom after we sit down and dig into our sandwiches.

Journey gives me a curious look. “What will you be making?”

“My family’s recipe for pork chops in creamy Irish whiskey sauce. Erin taught me how to cook it when I was ten.”

Journey and Edith nod, clearly impressed I know how to do more than grill. Revealing nothing, Donovan eats his sandwich and watches everyone in that cop way he has about himself.

As we enjoy the sandwiches and a pitcher of sweet tea, the women share the various meals popular on the homestead. I imagine Lola eating with her new family. A pang of sadness hits me despite the short distance between Tumbling Rock and Basin Rock. I’ll miss not having her a five-minute ride away.

I sense Donovan is facing similar feelings when he asks Edith, “When will you be back home?”

Edith looks at me. Her expression is so raw. She’s imagining our future together.

“I have to work tomorrow,” she mumbles, seeking out my feedback.

“Basin Rock isn’t far,” I say under pressure to soothe the three of them. “Edith won’t need to choose. By the time the baby is born, we’ll have a house here.”

Based on Edith’s expression, I’ve hit the right note. Her parents seem less sure.

Journey sighs. “It’s been difficult with Otto and Betty spending so much time at her sick ma’s house. Entire weeks go by without seeing them.”

Edith hears her mother’s meaning and looks at me for reassurance.

“I don’t know where Betty’s mom lives, but my place is less than thirty minutes away. Val and Lola plan to go back and forth. We’ll do fine, too.”

“What about Clover?” Journey asks, sounding a little like a prosecutor asking calculating questions meant to corner a defendant.

“What about her?”

“Is she okay with Edith coming around?”

“No, so I’m getting her a pet. It’ll be fine.”

Edith laughs at my words, sensing the joke her parents miss. I grin at the way she bounces in her chair.

“Do you have any pets now?” Journey asks, narrowing her gaze.

“When Clover was two, we adopted a beagle mix puppy. After living a long, lazy life, Pickles died a few years back. Since then, Clover has often talked about getting another dog. She’s even claimed she wants more than one along with a dozen cats and a couple of birds. But she’s struggling to take the leap with her first pet. I think she worries the new dog won’t live up to Pickles.”

Edith slides her hand across my arm, making me smile. “Half of the dogs on the homestead are fosters. Maybe when Clover’s visiting, she’ll get attached to one. That’ll help her get past her uncertainty.”

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