I giggle. “I’m home.”
“No, I mean…” His voice trails off, leaving me to fill in the blanks.
“Ah, I see what you mean. Well, I talked to my brother and Juliet this morning—that’s his girlfriend—and he volunteered to watch Skipper this weekend so I could go to Colorado. So it looks like we have a date.”
“Saturday through Monday?”
“Yes, if that’s still okay?”
“It’s better than okay!” He genuinely looks excited, and I catch a brief glimpse of the youthful young man he used to be. He’s older now, of course, with more laugh lines and a few wrinkles in his forehead. Not to mention more facial hair. “All my free time is yours, plus I may have a surprise or two up my sleeve.”
I shake my head. “No. No, no, no—no surprises.” I don’t deserve one. “Please, let’s just keep it chill.”
“Sorry, request denied. And you should know I have no chill. That’s where Skipper gets it from. Her old man, The Skip.” Jack pauses. “When you brought her to the game a few weekends ago, did she see me play?”
“Um. Honestly, I’m not sure she was paying all that much attention. She’s seven. She was more interested in the popcorn guy and the hot dog man who kept coming around.” I sound apologetic because the man sounds like he really wanted his daughter to see him play. “She just doesn’t understand sports.”
Even though Uncle Davis watches them regularly and shouts at the TV while he does it.
Jack looks bummed by that news. “Well, there’s still time to teach her.”
“Always looking on the bright side, eh?”
“Eh.”
We laugh. ‘Eh’ is something I used to always say, mimicking the accent of the Midwestern area where we grew up. Plus, I had a few Canadian friends in college who said it a lot too.
He leans his head against the back of his couch, suddenly joined by a copper-colored dog, jumping up and doing his best to lick him on the face.
“This is Kevin.” He tries to make an introduction and fails miserably. “He’s a pain in the ass. Kevin, stop.”
Kevin does not stop.
“Dammit, Kevin.” He laughs. “I’m trying to talk to my ex-girlfriend and the mother of your new best friend. Stop licking my face.”
The mother of your new best friend.
Jack somehow manages to ward off the dog, wiping his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “He was at doggy daycare today. I have no idea why he’s so hyper. He had the zoomies before I called, so I thought he got it out of his system.”
The zoomies. “Is that when they race around the house like they’re on crack?”
“Yeah. Once, he broke a lamp. Yanked the cord right out of the wall while he was trying to race under the table. Scared the shit out of us both.”
I imagine having a Kevin is a lot like having a toddler.
Been there, done that.
Not that I wouldn’t love to have more kids, just not a four-legged one that knocked things over and broke things.
“You probably won’t get to meet the little scamp all weekend. We’ll be busy, so keeping him home won’t be fair.” I can tell he’s scratching the dog behind the ears. “And no, I’m not always gone this much, but when I am, I have a great sitter who either comes here, or he goes there. Everyone loves this nutty little dude.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, “Why have a dog when you’re never around?” but now I don’t have to.
“What are we going to do while I’m there this weekend?” Four entire days until I’m on the plane, which reminds me, I still haven’t booked flights! I hope they’re not through the roof expensive. It would kill me to have to dip into savings for a long weekend I hadn’t been planning.
“Can’t tell you, or it’ll ruin the surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
“I know.”
“Once, when I was in middle school, my friends threw me a surprise party for my thirteenth birthday at my friend’s house—it was a pool party. And when my mom dropped me off, I could hear everyone in the backyard and went running back to the car. I was so embarrassed.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t like surprises. Maybe it just means you didn’t want a yard full of people.”
I run a hand through the water to warm it back up. “Hmm. You could be right. I’d never considered it that way.”
“I’m full of wisdom,” Jack demurs. “So I’m going to throw this out there and don’t want you to feel weird about it, okay?”
Oh, crap.
I nod slowly. “Okay.”
“I’m going to buy your plane ticket. I invited you out here, and I don’t want you to worry about the expense.”
Is he a freaking mind reader?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue. Of course it is. The last thing I want to do is take help from him. On the other hand, I cannot afford an airline ticket right now. I have bills and groceries, and this wasn’t in the budget.