Page 11 of Husband of the Year
CHAPTER FIVE
From her window seat, Illona fixes her eyes on the view outside, captivated by the sight of the island slowly fading away while we make our way toward the mainland. This is our quiet time together before we both plug in on the bus. We sit. Sometimes in silence. Sometimes not. But I cherish this one-on-one time with her.
“I’m really glad you and Daddy are home.”
She leans her head on my shoulder but keeps her focus on the waves outside.
“Me too.” I lay my hand on the side of her head. Olan pulled her hair back into two low braids and I’m careful not to disturb them.
This morning, Olan woke me with a kiss and coffee. He seemed much more himself than last night. Maybe it was the kissing and cuddling and relentless I love yous but I was happy to see the small gap between his front teeth when he leaned over to wake me after his early morning basement workout.
I know what happened isn’t something that Olan can simply “sleep off,” but I’m also not sure he wants to talk about it. With me, anyway. He isn’t particularly close to his family. He has a weekly phone call with his parents, but they’re so far away. I wish he had more friendsfor support. Even after two years here, most of the people he knows are from AA and, well, they’re mostly white.
Scanning the ferry, there’s not a single person of color besides Illona. And she’s with me. A white man. What do people think? What if it was Olan? With a white child? My heart momentarily gallops and I squeeze Illona a little closer, kissing the top of her head.
“Are you getting excited about the wedding?” Illona’s sweet face turns toward me. How do I have such a deep love for a little girl I’ve only known a short time? If I had a nickel for every time someone has told me I’d be a wonderful father, I’d be as rich as… well, Olan. Sometimes I think I want kids of my own. But I’m not sure Olan wants more. Or even if I do. When the one you have is pretty perfect, why tempt fate?
“Yeah. We need to start planning the details. August will be here before we know it.” I don’t know much about planning a wedding, but I know there’s a lot of moving pieces. Olan and I are meeting with the coordinator at The Ocean Inn soon to get the ball rolling.
“Any ideas about flowers yet?”
I’m not sure if Illona’s more excited about us getting married or the opportunity to be the flower girl. She’s determined to match her dress to whatever the flower theme is and Isabella has promised to make that happen. A flower theme isn’t anything I’ve heard of, but Illona assured me it’s real.
“You know, your dad and I haven’t talked about flowers, but maybe…” Elise’s bright orange hair and red lipstick flash in my mind. “Roses.” Illona’s eyes open wide. “Blue roses.”
“You went swimming? In the ocean? Naked?” Vincent’s voice fills my headphones as Illona and I ride the city bus headed for school. Taking the car back and forth on the ferry is an ordeal. My car stays at ourhouse on the island, and Olan leaves his in the ferry parking garage. He needs it to drive to work, and luckily, the Portland city buses, while not extensive, have enough routes to get us from the dock to school on a single bus. The commute has become our time together—and right now, Illona is also plugged in, watching an animated show about magical rainbow fairies on her tablet.
Just over two years ago, Olan and I had just started connecting. A month before that was the day we met. Wait, was that an anniversary we were supposed to celebrate? What do you get someone for the day-we-met anniversary? A card? Candy? A blowjob? There are so many firsts. The day we met. Our first kiss. The first time we were naked together? The first time he fucked me. The first time I fucked him. When we decided to make things work after the brief breakup caused by my overthinking brain. The day we moved in together. Soon, we’ll have a wedding anniversary. I’m going with that. Although a first kiss anniversary celebratory blowjob might be in the cards.
“Marvin? Did I lose you?” Vincent asks. I’d almost forgotten he was on the line.
“No, I’m here.” I check Illona, and she’s engrossed in her show, but I still default to camouflaging my words.
“Aked-nay.” A peek of a smile appears on my lips because even though she’s not listening and she’s mostly figured out pig Latin by now, Vincent and I love using it to talk about adult subject matter around her.
“In the water,” I continue. “And then…” Illona’s head dips down, eyes locked on her screen, a smile on her beautiful face reacting to whatever the green fairy is saying. I’ve watched the show with her enough to know the green one has the best one-liners.
“Ucking-say. Ucking-fay.”
“In the water?” The horror in Vincent’s voice makes me wince. He’s not a fan of swimming. Or public nudity.
“No. Not in the water.”
“On the beach? Marvin Block. Do you know how filthy beaches are?” Or germs. “Sand in your… ass. Are you kidding me?” Or dirt.
“We had a towel. And if you’re really curious, most of the… ex-say happened in our hotel room, which they kept spotless. I even commented to Olan, ‘Vincent would love this place. You could eat off the floors.’ ”
“As if.”
After our notoriously horrible first and only date two years ago, Vincent and I stayed in touch. There might not have been romantic chemistry, but he couldn’t have been more of a gentleman. He seemed like he could use a friend. And since my friendships comprised of Jill, Gonzo, and a few other female acquaintances I had at school, I figured maybe a male friend might be good for me, too. Vincent and I became close quickly—he’s like my little brother. Except he’s older than me. But age can’t account for gay-sibling dynamics.
“It’s a figure of speech,” I say, doing my best to assure him. “Nobody’s eating off the floor.”
“Except the ants and roaches.” The sarcasm in Vincent’s voice makes me smile. I love teasing him, and he lets me. Yup, definitely brothers.
“How are things with you?” I ask, attempting to shift the focus away from floor-feasting fiends.
“Excellent. I’m having the kids build dams with LEGO to see if they can control the water flow on an inclined surface.”
