Hold On

“Baby, sit down, okay?” I asked gently. “We’re good. This is fine. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want. It’s gonna be okay. I’m just tellin’ my little man what’s been goin’ down. Now I need you to cool it and talk it through with me.”


He drew in a breath so big, his chest puffed up with it.

Then he sat down, eyes to the TV, and I gave him time.

Eventually, he looked at me.

“You know, I like him,” he said. “Dad. He’s okay. He can be funny. She’s, like, a really good cook. Tobias and Mary are all cute and do stupid stuff all the time that’s funny. But he’s, like…not Colt. Especially with Peggy. Do you know what I mean?”

Did I ever.

“He’s not Merry either,” Ethan went on. “But in a different way because I never saw Merry with a chick. But, you know, Merry’s funny funny, like he doesn’t try. And Dad’s weird funny because you can tell he’s tryin’. But the Colt stuff, it’s, you know, you can tell Peggy totally calls the shots. It’s weird and a little freaky. I mean, it should be like Colt and Feb or, you know, like Mike and Dusty. Like, he’s the dude and he’s a real dude, but he doesn’t walk all over her and she sure doesn’t walk all over him.” He focused intently on me. “Do you know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean,” I confirmed.

“It isn’t like I don’t like ’em. It’s just weird,” he told me.

“Yeah, I bet,” I agreed.

“But if I had a choice to be around a dude and his chick, it seems more right, the way it should be, bein’ around Colt and Feb or, you know, like, Cal and Vi. Even if Cal is totally badass, Vi still doesn’t let him walk all over her. Dad and Peggy, it’s just…” He shook his head. “Freaky.”

I loved this. I loved all of it, even Ethan laying it out that I needed to look after myself. I loved it so completely, it made me want to get up and shout at the top of my lungs.

I wanted to do that because this one conversation proved that somehow, against the odds, those odds mostly created by me, I’d still managed to raise my son right.

“This is good,” he declared. “I could use a break. Dad asked if I wanted to spend next weekend with them and I was kinda wishin’ I could say no. I’m gonna say no.”

Well, that was a big honkin’ relief.

“Okay, Ethan, I’m glad this works for you, because if you say no, he’ll eventually come to me and then I’m gonna say no for you for a while. Are you good with that?” I asked.

He looked intently at me. “Yeah. And you want, you can tell them I don’t wanna spend more time there and definitely I don’t wanna live with them. He can’t, like, walk into my life when I’m almost grown up and do stuff like that.” He cocked his head and kept talking while studying me, offering, “If you don’t wanna say that to him, I will.”

“How about you keep things cool between you and your dad and let me do the talking for now? That work for you?”

He nodded but said, “If I gotta say it, Mom, I will.”

Oh yeah.

Mental shout for joy.

My kid was smart. He was sensitive. He spoke his mind. He was strong. And he was brave.

I’d raised him right and I was only just over half done. I had more time to set that shit in stone.

That time wasn’t enough, just because it would eventually end and I wanted it to last forever.

But it worked for me.

I nodded to him and replied, “Okay, kid. If you gotta say anything, you should say it anytime. In this situation or whenever. Just be cool about how you say it. You with me?”

“I’m with you,” he muttered.

I tipped my head to the TV. “Now, are we gonna annihilate some more bad guys or you wanna help me clean the coffee table?”

“I’m not done with the M&M’s.”

Of course he wasn’t.

Then again, I wasn’t either.

I had a feeling I missed the boat on broccoli.

But he liked carrots, so I’d get some of those tomorrow.

“Right, you get the Pringles, I’ll get the pizza, we leave the M&M’s, then we kick some butt,” I suggested.

He smiled. “Works for me.”

He jumped off the couch as I pushed off it.

I waited.