“It’s okay, Momma.”
Right.
Juno said that sometimes.
And when she did, I always wondered if she meant, “I’m okay,” or, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll survive.”
I wanted the first.
I’d work for the second.
“Thank you for understanding about the phone,” I said.
“I should have told you right off,” she mumbled.
“I understand why you didn’t.”
She rolled to her back and looked me right in the eye.
Then she bossed, “You should be downstairs with Auggie.”
“I wanna make certain you’re all right.”
“I’d be all right if you were downstairs with Auggie.”
I started laughing.
“What’s funny?” she asked.
I bent closer to her and whispered, “I have a little matchmaker.”
“I like the way he looks at you,” she whispered back.
A lovely shiver slithered up my spine.
And not only because I was happy she liked that.
But because I liked the way he looked at me too.
“And I liked that he got mad at Uncle Birch for ruining our dinner,” she continued. “I mean, I know you haven’t seen him in forever, but it’s not nice to show up at someone’s house and not call first. Unless you’re Jenn and you’ve run out of ranch dressing or something and need to pop over real quick.”
She was right and I was glad she had that attitude.
Though I thought it was sweet, how she’d talked to her uncle.
In those moments, he’d become the Birch I knew.
I just didn’t want her to get her hopes up that she was finally going to have some good on my side of her family, because if Birch kept acting like he did, that might be the only time she’d ever see him.
This was why I warned, “I don’t know how much he’s going to be in our lives, honey. We’ve grown apart.”
“That’s okay, we’ll have Auggie.”
That surprised me.
It also worried me.
“Honey, he and I are just starting to see each other,” I cautioned.
“I won’t get my hopes up,” she promised.
She maybe didn’t want to believe that was a fib.
But I knew it was a fib.
I decided not to dig too deep into that.
“And when we lose Grandma, are we gonna grow apart from Granddad and Auntie Saffron?” she asked, not hiding she did it hopefully.
That surprised me too.
Not what she said or that she’d hope for that.
But that she said it.
“I think that’s a possibility, Juno,” I admitted.
She didn’t appear upset about that at all.
In fact, all I saw was relief.
And in that moment, all I felt was sad.
Because they were missing out on my girl.
Mom was going to die, not really knowing her.
And Dad and Saff were going to go on, never having Juno be a true part of their lives.
“We’re the dream team, you and me,” she announced.
“Always,” I agreed.
“Now go be smoochy with Auggie,” she ordered.
I rolled my eyes and said, “Don’t be bossy.”
“You’ll never keep him if you make him sit alone on our pink couch while you stay up here, talking to me.”
“This seems to be excellent advice,” I teased.
“Men don’t like pink,” she declared with authority.
“I don’t know, some men do.”
“Okay, but can we discuss that when Auggie’s not hanging out alone on our pink couch?”
I kept teasing. “No. Because I think it’s important right now at this very moment that you fully comprehend the concept of stereotypes. In this case, saying all men don’t like pink. Men can like whatever they like. And some like pink.”
“I don’t really care if men like pink or not,” she replied.
“I don’t either,” I shared.
“Mah…um,” she said my name with annoyed exaggeration. “Go. Be with Auggie.”
I smoothed her hair away from either side of her face. I did it again, and again, then, with her head held in my hands, I bent to kiss her nose and moved away nary an inch.
“I love you with every fiber of my being,” I whispered.
“I love you to the moon and back,” was her reply.
“Go to sleep.”
“Go be with Auggie.”
“Goodnight, baby.”
“’Night, Momma.”
I got up and turned out the little mushroom light that was on her nightstand, this leaving the little crescent moon light that was made of wire and covered in shimmery pink netting to give the room a nightlight glow from the dresser.
I went to the door.
I stopped at it and looked back at Juno.
She had her back turned to me again, the covers up to her chin, tucked there with her hands, snug in her bed, ready to fall to sleep.
Yeah.
Again.
That right there was absolutely, one hundred percent what happiness is.
* * *
Descending the stairs after saying goodnight to Juno, I wandered down the hall and saw Auggie on our pink couch.
I smiled.
He was lounging in his corner, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He had one arm thrown long across the back of the sofa, his other hand was held up in front of him and he was looking at his phone.