“Do you think you want to be a mom?”
My eyes snap up to Duncan’s in a millisecond. “Huh?” Ireply, as if he just asked me if I wanted to join the circus and learn to juggle flaming torches.
“Like, would you be a mom even though you don’t have one?”
I’m literally chewing on the inside of my cheek so I don’t giggle out loud. “Probably, but I’ve not ever thought about it.”
We’re going deep quickly for a ten-year-old. How can I change this subject? I nod at the pile of autobiographies beside me, but turn my attention back to the laptop. “Hey, do you want to check one of these out?”
Duncan’s eyes light up. I love how into books this kid is. “Yes, please.”
With my eyes still on the computer, I reach out for one of the books on the stack. I grab the top book and go to pass it off to Duncan, only as I do, I lose my grasp on it and it tumbles from my hand, knocking into my coffee mug from this morning, which is of course not empty, sending liquid all over the counter.
“No!” Both of my hands slam down on the keyboard in surprise as I take the laptop off the counter, tossing it on a box beside me. Duncan and I both grab books and anything that could get damaged and move them out of the way as fast as we can. After a few minutes of full-on scrambling, we both stop, facing one another with our eyes wide.
“That could have been a disaster,” Duncan confirms.
“You bet it could have been, but you acted fast.” I ruffle his hair. “That’s a lesson for you. This is why we should always use cups and mugs with lids around here. In fact, I’ll make sure to get us a couple so this doesn’t happen again.”
“Cool.” Duncan grins, nodding at my computer. “Is that okay?”
Flipping It over, I quickly inspect it, only to find the bottom of my old 2015 MacBook Air is coated with coffee. Grabbing a towel, I wipe itwhile praying that it’s not dead. This poor thing has been on its last legs for ages, and this could be the final straw. I open the cover and the screen, once bright and full of zest, and a bridal registry, is now blank.
I shift my gaze to Duncan. “Well, it doesn’t look good.”
“My mom dropped her phone in the toilet once and she made it work again by putting it in a bag of rice.”
While it sounds like a good fix, I doubt it could help my situation, but hey. You never know. “Really? Should we try that when we get to the farm?”
Duncan’s eyes sparkle. “I’ll do it for you!”
“Okay.” I chuckle, handing him the computer. “You’re in charge of it.” I look at the time, pointing to the front door as I do. Mary had dropped Duncan off this morning for his “shift.” When she did, she asked if I minded driving him back out, which of course I can, especially since today I’m officially off the crutches, and she’d asked if I’d like to stay for dinner. “Flip the sign from open to closed, and you can pick out your books while I close out.”
Had she made a side comment about it being my engagement dinner? She did, but she’d punctuated the awkward moment with a cheeky grin, too. I’m no stranger to dealing with awkward moments, I know how to sidestep ‘em and change the subject like nobody’s business. As soon as I told her how much I loved her homemade peppermint stick ice cream, I could see her literally puff up with pride right in front of me. What can I say, I know where my bread is buttered, if you know what I’m saying.
Actually, I know where my ice cream is getting scooped—at least, where I’d like it to be, and I want to keep that ice cream coming. If it also allows me to maybe talk to Levi since we haven’t had a chance to be in person since last week, then that’s the cherry on top of the peppermint stick sundae.
“But it was Easter, did you really hide both baskets so well that they never found them?”
Family mealtime with the Porters is exactly as much fun as you’d think it would be. Duncan and I arrived just as Mary pulled her famous homemade lasagna from the oven, corralling all of us into the dining room almost immediately. All of this leaves no time for me to pull Levi aside and at least address the lips-on-lips situation from a few days ago.
Mary tries not to spit out her sweet tea. “Look, I was tired that day and wanted these two to stay busy. I’d been up working in the fields with the dogs all morning before they even got out of bed that year…let’s remember I was also a single parent.”
“Oh, boo-hoo,” Austin teases, fake punching his mom in the arm. “You had us two strong boys around, you didn’t need anything else.”
“I needed an adult.” She laughs. “At the time, I couldn't even remember hiding those baskets. I was that tired, so when they came in after looking for them for most of the morning and had nothing, I was no help.”
“You didn’t remember where you left their baskets?” I’m holding my side picturing the look on a young Levi’s face when he couldn’t find his present from the Easter Bunny. Eyes wide, lips in a tight line, feet firmly planted in frustration.
“You think that’s funny?” Levi says from his seat beside me, poking me in my ribs. “We did eventually find those baskets.”
I spin in my seat to face him. “When?”
Austin bursts out laughing. “Three years later at the top of the barn in the loft, buried in the hay. They were moldy and half-eaten by wild animals.”
The table erupts in laughter; even Duncan’s giggle joins the chorus, making both Levi and I grin as we exchange a look of pride. There’s a stabbing in my stomach as this happens, asif a cautionary warning reminding me that this is all fun, and while this family dynamic is amazing, in the end I’m the part of this story that doesn’t fit.
Three of these things belong together, one of these things is not the same…
