“I’ll back off.” She grins. “Just know I’m thinking it.” She winks, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. “Love you, son.”
“I love you too. Tell Dad I’m sorry I missed him.”
“Will do. He wanted to cancel his fishing trip, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“I’m glad. He deserves a break. He’s only been retired for what, two months, and he’s just now getting out of the house?”
“Exactly!” she exclaims. “I get the place to myself. Now, shoo,” she says with tears in her eyes.
“I’ll come home more. Promise.”
“Good. Love you. Give your sister and her family a hug from me. I’ll be there to see them next weekend.”
“I’ll tell them.” With a final wave, I’m in my truck and headed to the other side of town to see my sister and her family. It’s long overdue. On the drive, I get lost in my memories of that night, the feel of the mystery woman’s soft skin beneath my fingertips, the taste of her on my tongue, the way it felt to be inside her, and the knowledge that back then, I was the only man to ever have her.
I bang my hand against the steering wheel. I should have got her name. I should have insisted on knowing every little detail about her.
My dream girl.
When my sister opens her door, I’m hit with the sound of crying. Not just from my nephew, who is in her arms, but from somewhere else in the house. “Come in,” she says. I reach for my nephew to help her out, but he vomits all over her before I have a chance to take him.
“Shit,” she mutters. “The second time today.”
“What can I do?”
“He woke her up. Can you try and calm her down while I get him changed? I already called her mom at work. She’s on her way.” My sister is already headed down the hall toward her bedroom before the words are out of her mouth. Not that I can blame her.
Closing the door, I find my way to the Pack ’n Play next to the couch. Peering down, I see a tiny little bundle of pink, her arms and legs waving in tune to her cries. I’ve not had much experience with kids. It’s limited to the visit from my family over Christmas when my nephew was still a tiny infant and didn’t do much but eat, shit, and sleep. The cries intensify, and I know I’ve got to fight back the panic of not knowing what the fuck I’m doing and pick her up.
“Hey,” I coo as I carefully lift her into my arms. Placing her on my shoulder, I begin to rub her back as I pace the room. That’s what they do in the movies, right? “Shh, it’s okay. He didn’t mean to. Little man isn’t feeling well,” I tell her, and her cries turn to a soft whimper. “There you go,” I tell her softly. “All better,” I say as she shudders a tiny breath, which I feel against my neck, and her tiny body relaxes into my hold.
Something in my chest tightens at the realization that I was able to calm her down, and give her the comfort that she needs. Eyeing the rocking chair in the corner of the room, I take a seat and begin to rock her, continuing to rub her back. “Feeling better?” I ask her just as there’s a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Thea says as she walks back into the room with my nephew, Clint, and them both in clean clothes. “Hey, Cadence, I’m sorry I didn’t know what else to do. I hate that you had to leave work.”
“It’s fine. I had a light afternoon anyway. Can I do anything?”
That voice. My body is frozen as my night with her comes rushing back. I’d know that voice anywhere. I’ve heard it every fucking day over the last year. In my dreams, walking down the street, in a restaurant, you name it, and my mind has made me think that it’s her when it’s never been quite right, not until right now at this moment. My memories and my present are colliding, and I know it’s her before I even see her.
“Luckily, my brother Trevin showed up just in time for the second round of vomiting. I hope you don’t mind. Clint woke her up, and I asked Trevin to help.”
“It’s fine. I’ll gather her things and get out of your way. Is there anything I can do while I’m here?”
“No. I’ve already started my second load of laundry for the day, and Trevin’s here if I need anything. Come on in, and I’ll introduce you.”
I know that in a matter of seconds, I’m going to see her again. My heart is racing, and my palms are sweating. As if the little angel in my arms knows I’m nervous, her tiny hand rests against my cheek, and my heart trips over in my chest.