Page 64 of Every Now and Then
Remnants of Hayes’ evening with my daughters are scattered throughout the space. A hairbrush left on the coffee table. An abandoned plate with pizza crusts and a crumpled napkin. A damp beach towel draped over a bar stool to dry. And two backpacks propped against the wall. The juxtaposition of Hayes’ things mingled with my daughters’ does funny things to my heart. It’s intimate in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since lunch, which was over ten hours ago. I walk into the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat.
I spy a note on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, I read:
AB,
There’s leftover pizza in the fridge. Eat up!
H
I pull the pizza box from the refrigerator and gobble down a slice while standing in front of the open fridge. After I finish the first slice, I grab another and a beer before shutting the refrigerator door, sinking onto a bar stool. This time around, with the hunger pains at bay, I eat slower, alternating bites of pizza and sips of beer. When I finish, I head out in search of Hayes and the girls. Given the late hour and the silence, I assume they’re asleep.
Meandering down the hallway, I push open the first door, and my heart lurches at the sight inside. The three of them are snuggled upand fast asleep. Hayes lies in the middle, on top of the covers, with a girl curled up on either side of him beneath the blankets.
I’d love to say the image is painful because it reminds me of seeing Kyle with the girls. But it’s not. If anything, it’s the opposite. Kyle often prioritized his work, taking dinner meetings and attending late-night shows. He was rarely home at bedtime, and even when he was, he wasn’t a hands-on dad. More often than not, he’d seclude himself in his study, leaving me to handle the nighttime routine alone.
Looking back, I wonder why I ever accepted that as normal… or enough.
Hayes has known my daughters for only a few hours and, judging by the stack of books on the bed, he’s probably already read them more bedtime stories than their father ever did.
“Hey, you’re back,” Hayes whispers blearily, his voice heavy from sleep. He gently disentangles himself from the girls and crawls off the bed toward me. I open my arms to him. He sets his chin on my head, wrapping his thick arms around me.
“Thank you, Hayes. I couldn’t have gotten through today without your help.”
“I was happy to be there for you and for the girls. They’re great kids.” He tugs on my hand and leads me into an adjacent guest room. “I packed a bag for you. I was way out of my element, but hopefully you can work with what I threw in there.” He gestures toward a tote bag that’s sitting on the bed. Too tired to look through it, I remove the bag from the bed, placing it onto the floor.
“Thanks. I’ll change into pajamas soon, but right now, I just want to lie down for a minute.” Plopping onto the bed, I pull off my shoes and sprawl out on the bed with a groan.
Hayes lies down next to me. I turn my head to meet his eyes. They’re the color of the sky on a fall afternoon right before a cold front blowsin. His dark hair is tousled from sleep, curling slightly at the ends, and like always, my fingers itch to run through it, but this time I don’t censor my actions. I reach out, brushing his hair from his face. As soon as I withdraw my fingers, the lock of hair stubbornly flops back onto his forehead, making me laugh.
“How’d it go with the girls? Were they okay with everything? They weren’t scared or anything, right?” Other than the photo Hayes sent me earlier and a few brief texts, I hadn’t heard from him all night.
“No, they rolled with it after I convinced Grace that I wasn’t kidnapping them.” I grin because that sounds exactly like something Grace would say. “Oh, and by the way, I told them we met at a restaurant and Laura fell and broke her wrist.”
“Whoa, first bribery, and now you’re already lying to the children.” I grin up at him. “So, what’d y’all do after ice cream?”
“We played in the pool for a bit. Oh, Claire got a little upset tonight because she forgot to bring Willow. I told her that a turtle should be okay being left overnight alone, though. Right?”
I nod, smiling. “Yep, Willow will be totally fine, given that Willow is Claire’simaginarypet turtle.”
“That would have been helpful information to know ahead of time, Annabelle.” Hayes chuckles softly. “Anyway, after the pool, we ordered pizza for dinner since that’s what Grace said you always do for dinner on Thursdays.”
“What?”
He cocks his head quizzically. “Grace told me that you always serve pizza on Thursday nights.”
“Hayes, I hate to break it to you, but that is absolutely not true.”
“Seriously?” He looks at the ceiling, gobsmacked. “She had me believing that it was practically a family tradition for you guys. Every Thursday is pizza night! And Claire just went along with her.”
I cackle at his gullibility. He pauses and then turns his face back to me.
“Let me ask you something. How much do you have to put into the swear jar each time you cuss?”
“A dollar per swear. Why?” I pause, smashing my lips together. “Oh no, how much did Grace tell you?”
“I had to write her an IOU for fifty dollars—twenty for the first swear and ten dollars for each additional swear.” I clamp my hand over my mouth as a fit of laughter rolls through me. With a sigh, Hayes shrugs. “At least it’s going to charity.”
