Wait For Me

“How about you both go hide, and Henry and I will be the finders?”

“Really?” Jack says, cocking his head at me. “But I’m always the seeker because Emma doesn’t like to do it.”

“Yes, really. I love being the seeker, which means you two get to hide. But you have to promise you’ll stay within your dad’s yard.”

“Okay.” For the first time today, Jack smiles.

It’s not the same smile as Grayson and Duke have, which makes me wonder what his mother looks like. And if she’s still around.

Jessa told me Lorelei had gotten into drugs, but she never said another word about it. Jack must favor her, since he looks nothing like his dad, and she must be gorgeous, because Jack is a handsome little devil.

“You’ve got twenty seconds.” I squat down next to Henry. “Cover your eyes,” I say, laughing when he slaps a hand over this face. His eyes aren’t covered, but he looks adorable.

“Twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen.” I cover my eyes, take Henry’s hand, and count down. When I get to one, I lower my hand. “Ready or not, here we come!”

Hours later, the kids are still wired and ready to go, and I can barely stand. My feet hurt from running around with them, my arms are sore from picking up Henry, and my face aches from laughing.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun or been this exhausted. My concerts don’t wear me out the way these kids do.

“All right, everybody in the house. I have to use the bathroom, and we’re gonna take a break.”

I follow Jack and Emma to the front door of the sprawling brick home. It reminds me a lot of Nick and Jessa’s house, only bigger. I suppose Grayson needs the extra room with three kids.

Once inside, Jack and Emma go straight for the couch and flip on the TV.

“Jack, can you keep an eye on Henry for me while I use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” he says, sliding off the couch onto the floor. He pats the spot beside him and Henry toddles over and plops down next to his big brother.

The bathroom isn’t hard to find, and when I push the door open, I gasp. It’s huge—although most bathrooms are, compared to the one on my tour bus. But this bathroom looks straight out of a magazine. The tiled, stand-up shower has one of those fancy rain shower heads hanging from the ceiling, and I make a mental note to have one installed in the bathroom at my house. Even though it’ll probably never get used, at least it’ll be there if I want it. Next to the shower is the biggest bathtub I’ve ever seen. It could easily fit three adults.

Toys, bubble bath, and baby shampoo line the edge of the tub. All it needs is a few candles and a plush bath pillow, and it would be the perfect sanctuary. What I wouldn’t give to turn down the lights and climb into a hot bubble bath right about now. I can’t remember the last time I took a bath. It’s been over a decade, if I had to guess.

Would it be weird if I offered to pay Grayson to let me take a bath in his bathtub? In my head it sounds reasonable, but he’d probably think I was crazy.

“I fought you got lost,” Emma says from the doorway.

“No, sweetie. I was just admiring your bathtub. It’s huge.”

Emma smiles and scoops up a Barbie from the ledge of the tub. “I wove taking bubble bafs. Do you?”

“I do, although it’s been a long time since I’ve taken one.” I stare longingly at the tub, take a breath, and shuffle Emma out of the bathroom. “I’ll be right out.”

By the time I finish using the restroom, wash my hands, and step into the hall, Emma is gone. I find her in the living room on the floor, playing with the Barbie she grabbed. Henry is asleep with his head on Jack’s lap while Jack laughs at some silly show on the TV.

“Is anyone hungry?” I ask.

Jack and Emma nod, and I escape to the kitchen to see what I can make. I open the fridge, shocked to find it almost empty. I don’t know much about raising kids, but I think having lots of food is a must. Grayson must’ve missed that memo.

I open an old pizza box and cringe when I look inside. No way am I reheating this. I toss it in the trash, along with something else that looks way too jiggly to eat.

“Damn, Grayson, it’s time to go shopping,” I mutter to myself as I pull open the freezer. Bingo! Frozen chicken and a bag of frozen veggies. Now this I can work with.

I think.

I rarely cook for myself, but I’ve watched enough cooking shows to know it can’t be that hard. I defrost the chicken breasts, toss on some seasoning, put them in a dish with the veggies, and pop my creation into the oven. And then I give myself a pat on the back.

If Bo could see me now.