Page 64 of John Wilder Gets Schooled
“A baker! Right!” Bobby shoved more cake in his mouth. “This is damn good cake. Just imagine if you could get one of these every day, right here in Goose Run! Think what it would do for tourism!”
“Bobby,” Jane said fondly, “the only tourists Goose Run gets are people who take a wrong turn off the highway.”
“Well, it ain’t a wrong turn if it brings them to Goose Run,” he said staunchly. “It’s more a happy accident.”
The afternoon wore on, and everyone talked and chatted likethey’d known each other forever. They had, I guessed, but I didn’t feel left out because I was included too. I showed Bobby some of the photos I’d taken on my phone that day at the Adventurama, and he puffed up proudly each time. Jane asked about my crocheting and said she’d never been able to get the hang of it.
“I tried, of course,” she said and nodded at Danny. “When his sister Emma-Lee was on her way, I thought I’d try that grandma thing. Gave up in about a day and went and bought a blanket from Walmart, like a normal person. By the time Danny came along, I didn’t even bother to pretend anymore. You want hand-knitted sweaters and baked goods? Honey, that’s what the internet was invented for.”
“Yeah, the only thing Grandma makes is brownies,” Danny said, his eyes sparkling. “And not the sort you can share at school.”
“Oh,” I said, and then it hit me. “Oooh.”
Jane laughed.
Later, when dusk was falling, the twins and Gracie and Bobby ran around in the backyard with water pistols, having a battle. Lucille joined in, but it was impossible to tell whose side she was on. Her own, probably.
Wilder came and leaned on the porch railing beside me, his gaze on Gracie. “It looks rough out there,” he commented.
I wondered if his closeness meant our previous awkwardness was forgotten. “I think she can handle it.”
“It’s Bobby I’m worried about,” he said, and I laughed.
Since it was just the two of us, I took the chance to say, “Hey, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable before. I know you said you aren’t in a position to date right now, and I respect that.”
Wilder looked over at me and his brow creased. “I did say that.”
“And I wasn’t trying to suggest that’s changed. I was just sharing because I’d always assumed there were rules against dating parents, and finding out there aren’t was interesting to me, I guess?”
“Right,” Wilder said, his gaze swinging back to Gracie. “You didn’t mean nothing by it. Got it.”
“Exactly,” I said, glad we were back on the same page.
We watched the water fight for a few more minutes until Gracie stomped back up the porch steps after Cash soaked her once too often, and she threw her water gun down with a clatter. “I don’t wanna play anymore,” she said, her face a tiny, angry thundercloud. “Uncle Cash is a bigmeanie!”
It was obvious she’d reached the end of her tether and I half expected Wilder to scoop her up in a hug, but instead he raised an eyebrow and said, “You need to pick that up, Gracie.”
She glared at him and kicked the water gun so hard it skittered across the patio and stomped toward the back door.
She made it about three steps before Wilder’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Grace Kennedy Wilder, you get your butt back hereright now, pick up that water gun, and apologize for calling Uncle Cash names.” He wasn’t loud, but it was clear he wasn’t fucking around either, and honestly I was kind of impressed.
Gracie paused, and her shoulders slumped before she let out a sigh like she was having the worst day of her life. She went back over to the water gun, picked it up and put it on the outdoor table, and mumbled, “I’m sorry I was mean about Uncle Cash.”
Wilder crouched down in front of her and ran a soothing hand over her shoulder. “Thank you, sweet pea. I think maybe you’re tired from all the fun you’ve been having, huh?” He straightened up and held his arms down for her. “Come on. I think you need a bath.”
Gracie let herself be picked up and then sagged against him. “I want more cake.”
“You can have some more tomorrow,” Wilder said. “You gotta get ready for bed now.”
He carried Gracie inside and I drifted over to the cooler to grab another beer. While I was there, Jane came over. “So, you’re Gracie’s teacher, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She regarded me closely. “So you can tell me how Wilder’s dealing with being a parent full time. And I want the truth, not some sugar-coated bullshit.”
I hesitated and her expression softened.
“I just want to know he’s doing okay,” she said quietly. “He’s my boy.”
