“Little, filthy, sunburned lights.” He loved it, though. These kids were covered in scabs and dirt and sweat.
“Just as kids should be. Just like you were. Covered in dirt and who knew what all the time. Pop put in that mudroom just for you.”
“I know. I had the best childhood—here, with you and Pop and Uncle Rick. It was magic. I was so happy.” It wasn’t bullshit, either.
“I’m glad you’re home, you know. I just hope Connor is ready for all of this. You spent a long while in his world.”
That was his way of thinking. He’d been the stay-at-home dad. He’d gone to the city. He’d been suburban for their whole marriage.
It was time for him to have his dream.
Right?
“They’re in bed. They’re exhausted.” Pop stepped out on the porch with them, cake in hand. “All this air is good for them.”
“It is. They needed to be able to run amok some.” He grinned at his dad. “I do like exhausted sons. A lot.”
“Yes indeed. They don’t complain much, do they?” Pop chuckled. “I’m feeling better. I’d like to come help some, just to be useful.”
Momma’s eyes narrowed. “You do, do you?”
“Yes. I have my grandsons and my son here. I want to hang out with them.” Pop actually stuck his tongue out at her.
Momma snorted playfully. “You’re a nosey old man, but it’s true those boys like you.”
“A little,” Pop agreed, and they all laughed together, before his dad shot him a lot. “So, who’s the baker?”
“He’s the landscaper and a handyman.”
Pop gave him a confused look. “No, I asked who the baker was.”
“The handyman is also the baker. And he apparently makes dinner and helps with the boys too. Early thinks he needs a boyfriend.”
“I do. Thank you, Momma.” He rolled his eyes, but he had to grin. “And the boys love him.”
Pop nodded. “I guess he’s earning his keep. Is he staying here? It’s awfully late to have help around.”
“Yeah. He’s staying in the bunkhouse. I—” He didn’t feel comfortable having someone Connor never met sleeping in their house.
“Wise.” Pop gave him a nod. “You ready, Mother?”
“I am.” Momma set down her wine glass and stood. “I was so comfortable. It’s such a beautiful night.”
“It is. Y’all be careful going home. You want to take the cake home for tomorrow? I won’t eat it.” He liked pie. Connor always got him cherry pie for his birthday.
“I’ll get it.” Pop went back inside.
“Give Connor our love, sweetheart. Tell him we’re hoping he comes home soon.” Momma kissed his cheek.
“Every day, Mommama. I swear to god. Every day.” And it hurt him, deep, having Connor away.
“I know.” Momma gave his cheek a pat as Pop took her arm. “Goodnight, Early.”
“Night, son.” Pop gave a wave.
He sat and stared at the stars, just trying to recognize the different constellations he knew, which weren’t many. When his phone rang it made him jump, and wondered if maybe he’d dozed off. It could only be one person at this hour.
“Hey, darlin’. How’s you?” He grabbed his beer bottle and stood, heading in to lock up.