“Your father, well, he’s learned how to text.”
I smiled and shook my head. My parents had divorced when I was seven. There had been no animosity between the two of them. They separated as best friends. They had gotten married too young and had grown apart, but they continued to be friends. We had spent Christmas every single year with both of our parents. Dad would either fly to Chicago, or we would go back to Boston. The strange thing was, neither ever remarried.
“So, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
She laughed. “Oh, dear. I would give anything to be in the room when you get that first text. Darrin and Karen already received one earlier today. When your dad told me Darrin was teaching him to text, I was impressed. You know how he is with technology. Hell, he just got a cell phone a year and a half ago, and that was at my urging.”
Smiling, I nodded and tossed the stick again. Maggie Maye took off barking.
“I’m sure he’ll get the hang of it.”
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it away from my ear to see my father’s name. “Looks like mine just came through.”
Mom laughed. Again. “It probably took him a few hours to type it out!”
This time she laughed so hard she snorted. “I’ll… let you… go…”
Another round of laughter caused me to laugh as well. “Okay. You doing good with everything? Karen feeling good, not working too hard?”
Mom was still giggling when she replied, “I’m wonderful, honey. Karen is feeling amazing. She’s starting to show and is the cutest thing ever. Joe spoils her and doesn’t let her do a thing.”
“Good, he should spoil her.”
“I’ll let you go so you can read your father’s text. I’m still planning on coming up to see you in a couple of weeks.”
“I can’t wait to see you, Mom. I miss and love you.”
“Miss you and love you, too.”
Hitting End, I opened up my father’s text message and stared at it for a few moments before I started to read it.
Dear Mike,
The weather has been unseasonably cool. I know you know this, since you are in Salem.
Darrin stopped by yesterday and showed me some fancy features on this silly phone your mother talked me into getting. Apparently, I can write you a letter and it will automatically deliver to your phone, no need for stamps. Not sure what in the hell the post office is going to do now. I plan on discussing it with my Sunday men’s club after we play a round of golf.
I’ve been keeping busy, being retired has its ups and downs. I’m trying to eat healthier, per your mother’s request. The woman is constantly in my business, and I have no earthly idea how she knows I’m eating at the Cheesecake Factory once a week. Then there are times she will ask me why I’m not home because it is so late. I’m beginning to think she has someone watching the house or talked Darrin into putting a camera in here somewhere. She worries about me still, you know. I love her, but there is a reason we got divorced all those years ago.
How is the job going? I don’t suppose it is very different in some respects, and in others, very different. I checked the crime rate there, much better than in Chicago. If only I could talk your mother into moving back to Boston.
Have you met anyone? Don’t rush into a relationship, son. Plenty of time for that.
I’m going to sign off, I’m getting a headache from trying to look at this tiny typewriter.
Write when you can.
With love,