Page 7 of The Infiniteness of Yesterday
“I haven’t heard from him.”
She frowns, already walking over to her closet.
Shaking my head, I return to the kitchen to finish up and plate the food. By the time I’ve put all our plates on the table Jameson is out of the shower, dressed in a pair of old distressed jeans and a t-shirt that says Ah! The Element of Surprise.
“Smells delicious, babe.” He places a kiss on my cheek. “What do you want to drink?”
“Just a water.”
“Roe-Roe-Roe-Your-Boat, what about you?” He calls out as Monroe runs down the hall.
“Capri-Sun!” She launches herself into the chair and it slides across the floor.
Monroe has two speeds. Fast and faster.
Jameson grabs her Capri-Sun, my water, and his beer—somehow managing to hold them all in one hand as he closes the refrigerator door with the other.
“Go long, Roe.” He tosses her the Capri-Sun and she makes a dramatic show of catching it, nearly falling off the chair in the process.
My stomach rumbles as we’re finally seated at the table. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten, but my belly didn’t forget.
We dig into the spaghetti and meatballs. Both of them appear as ravenous as I am.
“You make the best balls, Mommy.” Monroe tries to fit an entire meatball in her mouth, gives up, and bites a fourth of it off.
Jameson has to smother a laugh while I shake my head, far from surprised by her declaration.
“Yeah, Harlow”—Jameson speaks up— “your balls are the best.”
“Shut up.” I playfully push his shoulder, but it’s impossible not to be amused by the whole thing.
“Mom”—Monroe begins in a voice that sounds suspiciously like my parent voice— “you said shut up isn’t a nice thing to say, remember?”
I frown. “I … I did say that.”
Kids, they never forget a thing and they’re more than happy to call you on your own bullshit.
She lowers her lashes, her blue irises barely peeking. “Don’t let it happen again.”
Jameson coughs into his napkin, trying yet again to hide his laughter.
Luckily, we finish dinner without any more incidents.
“I got the dishes, babe.” Jae drops a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Take care of Roe.”
I smile gratefully at him as he gathers up the dishes to take to the sink.
“You know what time it is?” I ask Monroe.
She holds up her right hand, shaking her head dramatically. “Don’t say it.”
“I have to say it.”
“No, you don’t.”
I fight a smile. “It’s bath time.”
“I said don’t say it, Mom. If you don’t say it, then it’s not true.”
