Page 4 of Perfect Pairing
“Somewhere far away from here.”
Hansen, who was barely two and thus perpetually unperturbed by the world around him unless it directly affected his sleeping and eating schedule, shrugged and said, “Okay.”
And that was that.
“When do we leave?” Dad asked.
I whirled on him, surprise raising my brows.
“You want to come? I mean, I planned on asking, but…”
“You guys are the only things keeping me here, Ez,” he assured me, settling a hand on my shoulder. My mother left him a long time ago, when I was barely Hansen’s age, content to sow her wild oats instead of staying to raise her son. To this day, I had no idea where she was, nor did I want to know. Since then, it had been me and Dad against the world. He’d always known what to do and say to bring me back to Earth when I spiraled, and that he was willing to uproot his life to follow me and Hansen across the country meant more than I could ever say. Still, my eyes watered, and I sniffed loudly.
“Are you sure?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything. Besides, I’m not getting any younger. It’s about time I retire, don’t you think? I can spend my free time taking care of our little rascal.”
I shrugged. “You don’t have to do that, Dad. I’m sure there are construction companies in Michigan.”
My dad had been a construction foreman for my entire life, getting his start as a day laborer when he was barely in his mid-twenties and working his way up. Now, at sixty, he more than deserved to retire and relax.
Apparently, his idea of relaxing was helping me raise my child, who, like me and through no fault of his own, was motherless.
“I want to,” he promised. “Plus, Michigan sounds like an awfully big adventure.”
“LikePeter Pan!” Hansen crowed.
My dad shot his grandson a wink. “Exactly.”
“Well…” I said slowly, eyes darting between the two. “How quickly do you think we can pack?”
Hansen cheered loudly, shooting upward in his chair so quickly, he nearly toppled out of it. After a scare when he was younger when he nearly choked because I couldn’t get him unbuckled fast enough, I was loath to strap him in. I caught him at the last moment and swung him around in my arms, joining in on his chant of, “Mich-i-gan!”
Even thethoughtof getting the fuck out of New York had my spirits lifting.
Michigan, here we come.
“Dada, I have to potty.”
From the passenger seat, my dad groaned, and I echoed the sentiment.
Obviously, I was all for Hansen learning how to use the toilet. He was nearly two and a half, and I was getting sick of changing diapers. I’d started potty training him about four months ago, shortly after he turned two, and to say it had been a struggle thus far would’ve been a gross understatement.
So when my boy told me he had to potty, I was scanning the interstate for signs indicating the next exit—even though we stopped not thirty minutes ago.
“You should’ve put him in a Pull-Up this morning,” my dad said.
“Shh,” I hissed. “That’s a dirty word in this family now. I’m not going to undo all the progress he’s made just because you don’t feel like stopping every ten seconds.”
“You don’t feel like stopping either!” he said through clenched teeth.
“Whatever,” I grumbled as I navigated us onto the off-ramp.
We were in some tiny town in the middle of nowhere Michigan, maybe twenty miles outside of Traverse City, and the drive had taken significantly longer thanks to my son’s tiny bladder and penchant for draining his water cup within thirty seconds every time we filled it.
On the way here, we’d spent a few nights in Niagara Falls. I’d lived in New York all my life and had never been. Before we’dleft, Dad and I agreed some sort of family excursions beyond endless hours in the car would be good for us and Hansen. Once we’d crossed into Michigan, we also spent some time in Detroit, taking Hansen to the zoo. He was obsessed with the animals, particularly when it came to feeding the giraffes, and the photos would be memories I’d cherish for the rest of my life.
And yes, while the frequent stops were annoying, I wasn’t about to tell my kid he couldn’t have water, for fuck’s sake. What kind of monster would do that?
