Chapter 5

Our days fell into routine. Not boring routine, but a sweet enjoyment and meshing of two lives. There were times that I just sat back and thought about how odd this must be from the outside looking in. Me, a forty-odd year old engineer. She a twenty (yes, her birthday was epic in many ways) year old college student. It was against the odds, but we fit.

Some evenings were spent with me poring over her books with her. Some were just kicking back watching TV. We took day trips, driving down the road yacking about anything and everything, or listening to music. Her tastes were just about as eclectic as mine, and many a classical piece eased us out of the day's stresses.

Oh, that "birthday" thing? That was three months into our adventure, and her mom had indeed a month before discovered the earth-shattering truth, the killer asteroid fact that her precious daughter was shacking up (her term) with the ex-husband of her sister. The sister/ex-wife was beyond words, too. The screaming was epic. I heard words on my cellphone that I'd never expected to hear. I got threats that I would never see my children again. But Brit soldiered on, right by my side through the whole thing. I rather think that there was part of her that enjoyed it, like it was the final snip to mommy's umbilical cord.

So there was Brit's birthday party. With her family. Because Momma's little girl was leaving behind her teen years. And Brit told her mom that if I wasn't invited, she wasn't coming either. That caused more wailing and gnashing of teeth. And her mom buckled.

Brit and I were driving over to her mom's house for the party. "You know there's a real good chance this is gonna be a riot, huh, babe?" she said.

"Oh, yeah, I guess it could be. But I'm not gonna flaunt our relationship in front of them. No sense in rubbing salt in a wound."

She sighed. "Babe, you an' me have been together for three months now. It's been the best three months I can remember, even when I was a princess an' got everything I wanted. I love you, you know."

"I know, sweetie. I love you too. You make me live again."

"Well," she said, "I just want you to know that I am yours, okay? So let's get through this."

We walked into the place and heads turned. I mean, I already knew everybody there. After all, I was once married into that bunch. I wish I could say that they all smiled when I walked in, but there's no sense lying about it. They did smile at my Brit, but even that was the sort of smile you see when somebody's doting on a little handicapped kid.

A couple of the adults softened up enough so that I had somebody to talk to. We talked about work and common acquaintances and family members I knew. We talked about guns and hunting and fishing and somebody's new car. And out of the corner of my eye I watched my Brit. She moved about, confident and poised in a way I'd never seen her portray before.

Finally it was time to sing the song and cut the cake. Mmmmmm. Cake! I got my own slice and was balancing the plate in one hand and a glass of non-alcoholic punch in the other, and then it happened. Brit's mom got up to speak, and she said something about her dreams for Brit's future and her success thus far in college.

I was amused at the last. Brit was at best a mediocre student in college, that is, until she moved in with me, and together we'd buckled down on her studies.

And she said something about looking forward to having grandbabies.

Brit didn't let that one pass. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" she said, gaining the room's attention.