Chapter 19

“Well we’re here,” said Glory,

“They’ll be here, reluctantly on her part I’m sure, and likely his too, but they’ll show up of that I am certain,” I said.

“You are a trusting soul,” said Glory.

“Hmm, am I?” I said. “There they are.” She watched as the two strangers, to her, approached our waiting selves.

“Have a seat,” I said. They did so.

Seated, I glanced toward Penelope and introduced my new girlfriend.

“Penelope Hardy this is Glory Harris, Grant, this is Glory,” I said. The two of them smiled and voiced their acknowledgements of the introductions.

The touring waitress, Arlene, came up to us and drinks were ordered; well, she’d been cued as soon as Glory and I had arrived; I was well known at the Pasture as was Penelope if it came to that.

“How are you feeling?” I said, looking over at Penelope. She smiled.

“I’m fine now. Thanks for asking,” she said. She seemed surprised that I would care how she felt. And that surprised me; she had to know that as angry as I was, and remained, in terms of our relationship since the divorce et al, that I did not hate her enough to want to see her savaged by disease or injury or any of it. I nodded.

“So,” said Grant. “Ideas?”

“Zoe lives with me for the next seven years; then, we split the time even up,” I said. “That would make us even. Right?”

“Not that you don’t have a point. But how about two whole uninterrupted weekends a month,” he said.

“It would be practical,” said Penelope, butting in. I actually laughed.

“Is that what you consider a serious proposal?” I said.

“Well ... yes,” she started.

“Live long and prosper,” I said. I wheeled myself back from the table and motioned Glory that were leaving. She motioned me to calm down.

“Your proposal is less than a joke,” said Glory, inserting herself into the fray. “How about one weekend a month and one full week a month. That would still leave you with more than half of the time, time you wouldn’t have had not Lee saved her, and oh yes, your husband too from total extinction.”

The Hardys looked down.

“Penelope?” said Grant. He knew he had to have her onboard or there would be no end to conflict down the line. She sighed, and nodded in the affirmative. Her less than enthusiastic agreement pissed me off.

“You think that that is too much? I mean really?” I said. “I mean us getting less than half of the time?”

“Well, no, I guess not,” said Penelope. I just stared at her.

“Pen...” started Grant.

“No, no, I’m onboard, I guess. It’s just that I will miss my baby when she’s not home. But, Lee, you do have rights too. I understand that. So okay. Which week of the month and which weekend,” she said, finally getting with the program. A program that Glory had come up with on the spot. Or, maybe she’d been mulling it over in her head without telling me. Who knew for sure?

It would end up that I would have the second full week of every month, and the last full weekend of every month. Adjustment for special situations were to be negotiated as the need might arise: somebody being in the hospital, vacation trips, weddings et cetera. The Hardys seemed good with it all. And, while I really would have preferred my initial, and totally to them unacceptable, proposal; I had to say that I was relatively satisfied with the compromise.

“You are pretty smart yourself,” I said, as we rode back to the house. It had been a real good idea for us to move in together, oh my yes it had.

“Yes, after you told me the deal, I did some thinking. Anyway, that was going to be my two-cents if called upon for an opinion,” she said.

“Well, it turned out to be worth a bit more than two-cents. I do thank you for your genius,” I said.

“Hmm, you’re welcome,” she said.

“Now to wait and see if they stick to the deal or do what they are so famous for, that is screwing me over,” I said.

“They’ll stick to it. Well, that’s the feeling I get. And they do owe you, and that big time,” she said.

“Hmm,” I said.

In spite of my job, which required a lot of my time, spare and otherwise, we’d been spending a lot of time with each other. Tonight, we were in bed sans our clothes. Well, cold as it was outside; it was January; it was hot as could be inside our bedroom. Crazy hot actually.

She played with my toys. I played with her globes—both sets. And yes, we were doing it. And oh boy was I happy we were doing it; and, oh boy was I happy that I could do it. Before Glory, it had been a long while. Before her, I was sure I could, but not very sure. Now I was, very sure that is.

“Good for you?” I said.

“Oh my, you have no idea. I’m glad you are able to do, well, as well as you do, do,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I won’t kid you, I am too,” I said.

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t want you to kid me,” she said, and laughed.

“So, whaddya think?” I said.

“About?” she said.

“About my kid living with us part of the time. I mean really,” I said.

“It was my idea!” she said. “Well, my idea how much time.”

“Yes, it was, but when you moved in, there had been no discussion about her being an in-house resident. Now...” I said.

“Lee, I’m good with it. More than good with it. I see it as making you happy which means no more angst, no more semi-state of depression. Yes, mister, I am very good with it. Okay! Sheesh,” she said. I smiled my gratitude. I was one lucky sonovagun.

It was the end of January 1996. I would be having my baby Zoey the 11th through the 17th of February and the weekend of the 24th and 25th.

“I really had been a bit wary as to how Glory might react to having my kid living with us; but as it turned out things would be good. And the methodology had been all her idea. Now for the other side of the coin: how would Zoey be seeing things. I’d figured it might be a little dicey with her at first, but I was hoping that she would adapt pretty quickly; she would be not quite seven-years-old; still, that was old enough to learn new things, new ways, adapt.

And then it was the morning of the 11th, and Grant delivered my daughter at 9:00 a.m. sharp. We hadn’t talked about times, but nine would be good for me; I guess it was for him too.

“You want to pick her up next Sunday morning? Is that good with you?” I said.

“Yes, that’ll be fine,” he said. “We didn’t talk about delivery times before, but this looks to be good from our end.”

“Ours too,” I said. “And, oh before you hear it on the grapevine. Glory has moved in with me. Hope that’s not going to be a problem with your woman.”

“No, no, shouldn’t be,” he said. “She told me she liked her, Glory. And anyway, we had heard already. The grapevine is still numero uno for getting the scuttlebutt.”

“Well, good,” I said. “That’s going to be important.”