Page 90 of Husband of the Year
“Your dad and I haven’t talked about that yet, but we have quite a few extra rooms. And he’s so small. We’ll figure it out,” I say.
“He can stay in my room,” she says with bright eyes. “I can pack some of my toys away to make room.”
“That’s so thoughtful.” Isabella pats her daughter’s knee. “But you don’t have to share your room. You’ve got lots of space in that house.”
“What about weekends when I come here?” Illona looks at her mom. “Can he come too?”
Isabella and I share another glance. We’re in undiscussed, uncharted territory.
“We’ll see sweetie. Maybe sometimes. Don’t worry. We’re all going to be helping. Just like with you. Your dad and Marvin and I are all a team.”
Illona flops into her mother’s arms, and Isabella brushes her hand over her hair. Isabella’s eyes meet mine, and her lips curl into a warm, kind smile. She nods gently and a lump forms in my throat. She means it. And who’d have thought the three of us would make such a great team?
“That’s what family means,” I say. “We all support each other.”
Illona leans back from Isabella’s chest and says, “Can I add Greggie’s name to the sign?”
“Of course,” Isabella says.
Illona leans back into her and Isabella reaches over, grabs my forearm, and pulls me into their cluster. As I find myself nestled among them, the reality of being here with my fiancé’s ex-wife and my soon-to-be stepdaughter hits me. It’s an unexpected twist, one I never could have envisioned, yet the moment is imbued with a deep joy. A serene wave of contentment washes over me, filling me with a sense of fulfillment and gratitude that surpasses anything I could have imagined. The bonds we’ve formed continue to evolve and grow, and in this moment, everything seems to align perfectly.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Olan: At the gate. I cannot wait to see you.
Marvin: Me too. I am so ready for you to be home.
Olan: Thank you again for being so understanding.
Marvin: Of course. Like you said, we make a fantastic team.
Olan: I love you Marvin Block.
Marvin: I love you too, and I cannot wait to see you and meet Greggie. Safe travels.
Olan:
The knowledge of Olan’s return makes Monday at school the least Mondayest Monday in a long time. When I tell my students about my plans after school to pick Olan up at the airport with our baby nephew, their excitement snowballs into a massive avalanche of kindergarten baby fever.
At choice time, it seems everyone has Greggie on the brain. At the Art Center, they’re painting pictures for him. The Writing Center craftsnotes welcoming him to Maine. Even at the Building Center, they make little models of his room for me. When I head to the Dramatic Play Center, Eddie and Alex use a doll to demonstrate how to change a diaper. Alex has a baby sister and has taught almost everyone in the class who wants to learn.
“When you finish,” he says, “you gotta hold the baby and give her a kiss.”
He demonstrates with the plastic doll.
“But use some hanitizer first,” Eddie adds. “And be gentle. Babies are delicate.”
I listen and nod. The realization that in a few hours, this dramatic play scenario will be a reality in my home crashes over me. Instead of nervous butterflies swarming in my stomach, a sense of excitement bubbles inside me.
At our Closing Circle, instead of telling me something they’re proud of, or something they’re going to do at home, they ask me questions about Greggie, most of which I don’t know the answer to.
How big is he? How old is he? How much does he weigh? Will he have his own room? How does Illona feel about him coming to stay? How does Gonzo feel about him coming to stay? Can he talk? Can he walk? What is his favorite food? Favorite color? Favorite TV show? Song?
“We’ll all get to learn about him together,” I say, and the class departs with excitement building around the new addition to our collective family.
After school, Illona and I meet Isabella in the parking lot and head to the airport. It’s only a ten-minute drive, and we’re quiet in the car, not something typical for us. Isabella has the new car seat buckled in and ready. Illona snacks on a pack of peanut butter crackers in the backseat her mother brought for her and when I glance back to smile at her and she catches me eyeing them, she offers me two. As I munch on them, wishing I had a glass of milk to wash them down, I realize the cast ofHigh School Musicalwas on to something. We really are all in this together.
We pull into the arrivals parking lot, and before anyone can speak, the familiar sound of my phone dinging with a text alert fills the car.
