Chapter 12

Barry’s turn:

Sunday morning we got up and fixed ourselves a quick breakfast before running out to the nearest grocery story for a couple of ingredients for Megan’s requested meatball stew.

I actually like the idea of walking through the parking lot with Jess holding onto my hand. The reality’s even better than the idea. I know we’re an odd couple. I’m very obviously older than her, but it doesn’t bother her and I’m just a bit proud of myself to have this cutie with me.

The guy stocking produce is somebody Jessie knows. I don’t get bothered by this. I’ve got Jess and he’s stacking potatoes.

After we collect things we came for, she maneuvers me down the wine aisle. “Isn’t this kind of like that stuff we drank in Galveston?”

“Pretty close,” I said. “Chardonnay. You want a bottle?”

“Okay. And if we like it, we’ll get some more.”

By noon the pots on the stove were simmering, savory, waiting for the knock on the door.

It came. I started towards it. Jess raised her hand. “Let me,” she said softly. And there’s the smile. My Jess, dressed neatly, simple cotton blouse, basic blue. Matching shorts, not really short, certainly not tight, and those same athletic shoes she wore the first time I met her. She swung the door open.

“Hi, Megan. Come in. Here, let me get your diaper bag.”

My daughter entered, one baby in her arms, the other toddling along, actually quite mobile at three years old.

“Hi, Paw-paw,” little Riley said.

“Hi, Riley,” I replied. “How are you doing?”

“Okay,” Riley said importantly.

“Hi, Megan,” I said.

“Hi, Dad. Looks like bein’ married to Jess has bumped up your housekeeping.”

“Why thank you, Meg,” I replied. “Yes, Jess brings out the best in me.”

Megan eyed Jessica, put her famous smirk on. All her life I’d known that smirk. It’s bidirectional – just as likely to precede a cutting insult as a quirky compliment.

“I always thought that “The Odd Couple” was these two weird OLD guys,” she said. The smirk changed to a smile. “I was wrong.” She positioned herself on the sofa.

“What?!?” I blurted.

“Daaa-aaadddd!” Megan whined, “I said I was WRONG.”

“I thought that’s what I heard. I just never expected it to come from YOUR lips.”

“I’m not THAT bad, am I Jessica?”

Jess smiled. “I do see where you might’ve come by the trait. But your dad soft-pedals it.”

“I AM maturing,” Megan said, shifting little Kinsey on her lap.

“Let me hold ‘er,” Jessica said.

“Practicing?” Megan quipped. Obviously wasn’t expecting the answer.

“Maybe in a year or two,” I said.

“SERIOUSLY?!? Dad, you’re pushing FIFTY!”

“I can still do math, Meg. I’m only slightly senile.”

“Daa-aaad, you know what I mean.”

“And I have a delightful young wife and we just MIGHT want to see what we get from combining OUR DNA.”

“And you need a little half-sister,” Jess added helpfully. Or to exacerbate the situation. Or something like that...

Megan uncharacteristically did NOT fly off on an uncontrollable tirade. She took a deep breath. Then another. Then “This is a good thing. I started this with a smart-assed remark and this is the result and it’s good for Jess and it’s good for Dad...”

“Meg...” I started.

“Hush, Dad. I’m working on my positive affirmation here.”

Jess’s turn to smirk. Megan saw it, feigned exasperation.

“Look, Jess ... I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad Dad’s happy. Sometimes I wish it was MY turn...”

“Megan,” Jess said softly, “I got out of that scene. All the physically mature, mentally stunted boy-men and women with six-year old self restraint. And that was months before your bright idea ... I was READY for a proper man to whom I could be a proper...”

“If somewhat improbable...” I inserted.

Jess smiled at me. “ ... wife and human being.”

“I might have reached that point,” Megan said. “Kinsey and Riley deserve better than I was when I conceived them.”

“That’s a very mature thing to say, Megan.”

“I know,” she said. “Mom’s jaw hit the floor. And I told Ron ... I dunno how I found Ron, Jess. He’s not one of that bunch we used to hang around with. He’s got a community college degree and a good job and he doesn’t party all the time...”

“And you think...” I nodded towards Kinsey. Kinsey was being enthralled with Jessica’s fingers.

“Pretty sure. Told him I’d do a DNA test if he wanted. He said it didn’t matter.”

“He’s serious?” I asked, trying to hide my incredulousness.

“We both are. Dad, I need to bring him to meet you. And I don’t want you be an ass like you were with some of my other boyfriends.”

Jess eyed me, watching.

“Which boyfriends? The one who was ‘in a band’ that did a gig a month? Or the one who was gonna inherit his grand-dad’s farm and raise organic vegetables? Or the one that had a full-time job at Jamba Juice?”

“Dad ... Roy’s a technician. Instrumentation. Just got on permanent at one of the plants.”

“Really?” I asked. “How old is he?”

“‘Bout halfway between you and Megan,” Jess said.

“Baby,” I said to Megan, “My sincerest hope is that you’d grow up and do right. I’d be proud to meet the guy.”

“Thanks, Daddyyyy!” she squeaked, sounding suddenly like the happy kid that brought so much joy when she was little.

We talked a bit more waiting for the rice cooker to chime. When it did, we got up and fixed plates. I balanced Riley on my thigh and fed him from my plate. Didn’t realize that I was completely melting Jessica’s heart.

When they were leaving, we helped Megan load the kids and the diaper bag into the car. Jessica popped up, “Next time we’ll have some toys for Riley. Don’t be so scarce, Megan.”

“Thanks, Jess,” Megan said, hugging her. “Y’all be good.” Jess and I stood side by side watching Megan back out of the drive and take off, then we went inside.

“I hope she really is turning herself around, baby,” I said.

“I get the feeling she is,” Jess said. “I’d say you can’t stay stupid all your life, but some people do that. But Megan – she has a couple of cute kids. I’d hate to see them suffer because their mom’s an idiot.”

“Well, we’ll see,” I said. “If she brings Roy over, I’ll take that as a sign.”

“Speaking of signs,” she giggled, “let’s take a walk around the neighborhood. I need the exercise. I have a genetic propensity for a huge butt, like Mom, and YOU need to do something to keep your stamina up.”

I smiled at my tiny cutie. Yeah, I need stamina. We took the walk. Her short legs meant that she took three steps to my two, but she knows how to pace, so we were going just fast enough to carry on a conversation. Thirty minutes. Good pace. Just a tad shy of two and a half miles according the health app on my iPhone.

“Curiosity,” she said.

“About what?”

“You’re carrying.”

“Yep.”

“Good. Somehow I don’t feel as secure as I used to feel. I never imagined people being just evil.”

Jessica’s turn:

I told Barry about the phone call from Megan last week. iPhone rang. Display said ‘Megan’. I ran though the list of directions this call could go, but it doesn’t matter. This is part of my new world. I knew about Megan and STILL fell for her dad.

“Hi, Megan...”

“Hello, Jessica. Or should I call you ‘Mom’?”

“C’mon, Megan. I’m two years older than you. What’s up?”

“All this stuff going on in YOUR life.”

“Me marrying your dad?”

“You ripping ol’ Justin’s nuts off. You ‘n’ Dad shootin’ a dude...”

“Megan, you know the story. The truth. All I want is to be happy, and I think being happy with your dad is the best thing in the world. Ever. You were at the wedding, for heaven’s sake.”

“I’m getting my mind around that, Jess,” she said.

“Me ‘n’ your dad being happy is NOT about trying to make you UNhappy. Really. He loves you, Meg. He doesn’t understand you, but he loves you. Wants good things for you. So do I. There’s not a reason for us to be enemies, you know.”

“Ain’t fair.”

I know the answer to this one. Heard it from Barry. “Fair’s a place where you buy funnel cakes. Life is life.”

“Dad says that.”

“See?!? We both listen to your dad. Megan, let’s be friends, huh? Try getting along with your dad. He wants it.”

“But he doesn’t, Jess. He hardly talks...”

“About what? ‘Dad, I’m just havin’ fun, is all. Dad, I’m pregnant. Dad, I’m pregnant again.’? Megan, he loves you. It hurts him to see what happens to you, but you don’t listen...”

“You have room to talk.”

“Bad answer, Megan. Let’s not do this. I changed. He’s part of it. Now, your turn...”

“I might be, Jessica. Might be.”

“Life is better. Real friends. Real love.”

I related the conversation to Barry. She should have known that. Maybe she didn’t. She called back, acted like this conversation never happened, made arrangements for lunch on Sunday.

“What do you really think, punkin?” he asked after she’d left, taking her two kids with her.

“I’d like to have her in a stable, safe relationship.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Yeah, I want to, don’t you?”

“I do,” my husband said. “I’ve tried believing before. Been disappointed. What do you know about this guy Roy?”

“I met ‘im a time or two. He had friends in my circles. I seriously think he got dragged in. Didn’t look like he really fit in.”

“Might be a good sign,” he said.

“Tell me about it. Of course, if I hadn’t run with those people, I’d’ve never have run into Megan and I’d’ve missed being set up for her dad’s sexual satisfaction.”

“A function you have filled quite well, young lady,” he laughed, whirling me into his arms.

I like it there.

Monday is back to work for both of us.

Tuesday was a disaster for me. Not just one ‘I cain’t come in today...” but THREE. Between me and the morning shift manager, we cajoled one of the morning crew to work through lunch and I managed to get one of the evening shift in for noon.

Unfortunately, the lunchtime rush starts at eleven. I switched back and forth, trying to fill in gaps, keep the flow going, get the meals over the counters and out of the window. By six PM I was as fried as whatever was in that bin under a heat lamp.

I called Barry on the way home.

“Salad,” I said. “And a very good shower. And love. Lots of love, with extra caresses.”