I laughed, “I wouldn’t say this food is something to be that proud of, you’ll want to eat a lot better than this—”
“What dost ye mean? Ye just drove tae a window and asked for warm food and a cold drink and ‘twas given tae ye through the window. Did ye see this?” He held up a ketchup packet. “Tis a sauce tae mix in yer food!” He shook a salt packet. “Tis salt! For sprinklin’ on the potatoes. Tis a miracle.” He picked up the soda and sloshed it with a grin. “Ice!”
“You convinced me. You’re right, the whole thing is a miracle and should make you very proud.”
I drove him to the south end and over the bridge and even faster. He clutched his stomach. “Och, I daena...”
“Sure, yes, sorry about that.” I u-turned and headed home.
When we pulled up at the house he said, “Ye get used tae it?”
“I am, and you will, I promise.” I pointed at the wooden building by the garage. “But also, see that, that’s Magnus’s stable. When he’s here his horses are there. Right now they’re over at the public stables where he boards them when he’s out of town.”
“I would like to ride a horse.”
“I’m not sure how it works, but ask Quentin. He can take you over and introduce you to them.”
James pulled his big ass truck behind me in the driveway and climbed down. Fraoch said, “Och, yer Jeep is verra grand.”
James grinned. “Well, this isn't a Jeep, this is a Ford truck, an f350 dually with a lift to be exact. You can’t just buy these. You gotta get it handcrafted.”
I joked, “Especially if you want to climb into it with a ladder.”
Fraoch’s eyes twinkled, “Och, ye might need a ladder, Hayley. I winna need one. I would like tae drive it.”
“Whoa nelly, husband, let’s get you used to riding first.”
James asked, “Fraoch, whatcha doing with yourself today?”
“Hayley was shewin’ me the island.”
“Good.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m here to challenge Quentin to Guitar Hero. Wanna watch?”
Fraoch glanced at me.
“The answer is ‘hell yeah’.”
“Hell yeah,” said Fraoch.
This was the scene that evening: Fraoch on the couch; sometimes with one or both of the boys sitting right beside him, under his arms; a drink in his hand; an endless train of snacks on the table in front of him.
James had the PS4 rolling on the big screen. He and Quentin played Guitar Hero, but when James decided to play Fortnite, Quentin said, “Nah man, that first-person shooter shit is too real. I get my head all fucked-up lost in it.”
Quentin joined Zach, who was at the table researching.
Emma was in and out of the room with little Isla in the sling and then she laid a baby blanket on the floor and put Isla in the middle of it with toys all around. Isla immediately started crawling around, up to the coffee table, pulling herself up to standing, and banging her palms on the surface.
“What’s up girlfriend, you want something to play with?”
I put a teething toy in front of her and she shoved it in her mouth, drool pouring down her arm, the front of her shirt completely damp.
I pretend-gagged. “What’s up, girl? You growing more teeth? I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this look, this whole smearing on yourself thing needs to stop. How you going to be Instagram famous covered in spittle and food?” She giggled at me and made a fwooooooosh noise.
“Good talk.”
She grunted and pooped.
I called, “Beaty! The baby took a shit!”
Emma said, “Hayley, if you live here and you smell it, you have to deal with it. It’s a rule. I have it on the refrigerator.”
Isla turned to Emma, held up her arms and said, “Mama!”
I frowned. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I picked Isla up under the arms, holding her a few inches away from my body, and carried her from the room with Emma following me.
Over the diaper Emma said, “So I saw your face, and I get it — she calls me mama, I don’t know what to do about it.”
I took a deep breath, then shook my head. “There’s nothing to do, you’re the closest thing to a mama she knows. What are you going to do, tell a baby that you’re not her mama, that someday her mama might come home, maybe?”