Perfect Imperfections

“What do you mean, sticky?” Jules said, drying her hands on a towel. “I literally just washed her hands.” She turned off the faucet and came over to him. “There were large quantities of soap and running water involved. We sang the alphabet together and applied friction.” She peeled the girl off Reg’s leg and winced when she saw his dirty jeans. “Sorry, Reg. I swear to you, they self-generate mess.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get shi—uh, stuff on me at work all the time. Old man Thompson barfed on me just last night.”

“Lovely,” Jules said.

“He’s still alive?” Ryan asked without turning away from the stove, where he was stirring something that smelled surprisingly good.

“Barely.”

“Dani, how is it possible you’re already dirty?” Jules sighed and led Dani to the sink. “Where did this come from? We were washing hands when the doorbell rang, and there is nothing sticky between here and there.”

“It’s like how they take up the entire bed even though they weigh less than forty pounds,” Ryan said.

Nodding, Jules said, “So true.”

“You’re staying for dinner, right?” Ryan asked.

“Sure. But that’s not why I’m here.” Reg took in a deep breath. “The, uh, reason I stopped by”—Jules kept washing Dani’s hands, Ryan kept stirring, and Presley stayed Velcroed to Reg’s leg—“is to let you know I’m moving.”

“What?” Ryan swung around, spoon in hand, flinging red sauce onto the wall and counter.

“Why?” Jules looked at him over her shoulder while still balancing Dani on her knee and furiously rubbing soap onto her hands and arms.

“Where’re you going, Uncle Reg?” Presley asked, blinking huge hazel eyes at him.

“Everywhere.” He smiled at his nephew and then looked at his brother. “I met a great guy. He travels for work and offered to take me with him. You know it’s what I’ve always wanted to do so—” He drew in another breath and let it out. “I said yes. I’m leaving next week.”

“Holy fu—”

“Ryan!” Jules warned.

“Holy fungus,” Ryan corrected. “You’re leaving with a guy you just met? How do you know he isn’t going to cut you up into little pieces and store your body in oil barrels on his remote property?”

“Dude!” Reg said. “What the he—heck? You’re better off cussing in front the kids!”

“I don’t even want to ask where you came up with that disturbing scenario,” Jules said to her husband. “But I may need to add parental controls to the TV to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She turned to Reg. “Oil barrels aside, Reg, that’s crazy. Nobody takes off with someone they just met.”

“He’s a good guy, and I get to see the world. I’d be crazy to say no.”

After exchanging knowing looks with Jules, Ryan said, “We’re going to meet him before you leave, right?”

“Uh, no. He’s not here anymore. He lives in LA, and I’m meeting him there before we take off.”

“Is he really old or something?” Ryan said. “Is that why you don’t want us to see him?”

“No. He’s a little older than me. Your age, actually.”

Jules set Dani down. Before she had the water turned off, the girl was across the kitchen, climbing onto Reg’s lap.

“What’s his name?” Jules asked, leaning back against the counter and drying her hands. “Seriously, Reg. Some guy comes in out of nowhere and offers to take you around the world. Who is he?”

“Uh.” Reg thought about how to respond. Jeremy said he’d be playing the role of boyfriend in front of the press. That meant Reg could be open about who he was. “Jeremy Jameson.”

Ryan dropped the spoon. Jules dropped her jaw. After that, there was a lot screeching and chaos, but at least his family was no longer worried about him. He stayed for dinner and story time, promised to send lots of pictures, and said good night. The next morning, he planned to have the same conversation with his mother.

“HEY, MAN, good to see you,” Reg said as he tossed his duffel bag onto Jeremy’s backseat on Tuesday afternoon. He closed the door, climbed into the front seat, and added, “Looks like you managed to navigate the airport pickup okay.”

When Jeremy had told him he’d never picked anyone up at the airport, Reg had laughed and informed him his streak was coming to an end.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jeremy wove into the line of traffic and rolled his eyes. “How was your flight?”

“Short.” Reg paused. “You didn’t need to get me a first-class ticket. I know that must have cost a bundle.”

Flicking his gaze toward Reg, Jeremy smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it. I make a bundle.”

“I guess you do.” Reg moved his seat all the way back to make room for his legs and relaxed. “We take off for Minneapolis tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What do we have on deck until then?”

“If you’re hungry, we can grab a late lunch. Other than that, my manager wants to meet you, and then we’re done for the day. We can get a pizza and veg.” He paused and then in a strained voice said, “Unless you want to go out or whatever.”