“Stop! Your hands are filthy,” I holler, shoving my shoulder into his chest and giving him a gentle push. He doesn’t budge.
Fish puts his hands up in surrender and heads to the sink. He uses Mack’s scrubber and degreaser and gets his hands as clean as possible.
“Dinner’s ready,” Mack hollers from the deck a few minutes later. “Fish, bring me a platter.”
When he returns with the food, Chief and Jones are hot on his heels, ready to dive into the food. The moment Mack sets the platter down, it’s like a free-for-all at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Mack shakes his head and hands me a plate. “Better get a plate before they come back for round two.”
We eat on the deck, enjoying the early Sunday evening warmth. My burger is loaded with mustard and cheese, and when I take my first bite, a big glob of yellow falls onto my shirt. Right in the middle of my boobs. “I’ll get it!” Fish hollers, but is unable to get up out of his seat when Mack places a warning hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t even think about it,” Mack growls, but I can hear the playfulness in his words.
“Where’s the baby?” Chief asks, his mouth full of food.
“Sleeping. He’ll be up any time now,” I confirm.
A realization settles in as I dab at the mustard. This is the last time I’ll be here with Mack and his friends, Oliver sleeping upstairs. A heavy weight settles on my chest as I pick at my burger. I can feel eyes on me, but I don’t need to look to see who they belong to. I’ve caught Mack watching me a lot lately.
After dinner, I head inside to clean up the mess as the delivery arrives from the auto parts store. The guys retreat to the garage to hopefully fire up the old Mustang, while I busy myself in the kitchen. Just as I’m getting the dishwasher loaded, a squawk sounds through the monitor, followed by an angry holler.
I move quickly upstairs to Oliver, who seems excited to see me. The moment I snuggle him into my chest, a calmness washes over me. It feels right. My heart aches as I take him over to the changing table to clean up his dirty pants, chatting with him the whole time. Once they’re fresh, we make our way down to the kitchen for a bottle.
I can’t believe he’s over two months old already. He’s awake now for longer periods of time throughout the day and is sleeping longer at night. We get up twice between 10:00 p.m. and 7:00 a.m., which is way better than three to four times.
When the bottle is ready, we sit in the rocker, and I slowly move. His brown eyes, the ones that resemble his dad’s, watch me the entire time. My finger gently strokes his cheek as he sucks, a sad smile teasing my lips. I’m going to miss these moments as much as I’m going to miss the baby himself.
Once I get a good burp out of him, I clean him up and head outside. It’s a gorgeous evening for a walk, but I opt to stay close to the house tonight. We walk around the yard as his eyes take in everything around us. “Soon, you’ll be able to float in the pool, Oliver. And maybe someday you can talk your daddy into getting a bigger pool. One with a slide. Don’t you think that’ll be fun?” I ask, as we bounce beside the cheap four-foot inflatable pool.
“I’m sure he’d love that.”
I turn to find Mack standing behind us, something dirty and old in his hands. “What’s that?”
He snorts. “The fuel pump. It was trash,” he says, tossing it off to the side along the garage.
I head over to where he is and smile when he takes his son from my arms. I just grin when I realize how messy his hands are, the grease a stark contrast against the white onesie that says “Lady Killer.”
“Come on, Ollie. Let’s go show Fish how to fix his car,” Mack says to his son, placing a kiss on his forehead as they go. I follow behind, breathing in the familiar scent of Mack at work.
Once the new part is installed in the Mustang, Fish gets behind the wheel and fires it up. It cranks on the first try, and I find myself smiling widely at his big, goofy grin. “Fuck yeah! Come on, Lena, you get the first ride!”