He twisted his neck so he could kiss her hair before he righted it and replied gruffly, “I’m glad you let me come back.”
“Mm,” she mumbled, digging her head into his shoulder for a beat then settling in.
He decided to move them beyond this or they wouldn’t be sitting on her porch, getting to know each other in a way he could leave and get back to his house to make certain his son came home on time after his study date with Wendy at her house.
No. They’d be doing something else. Something they couldn’t do for as long as he’d like, and after, he couldn’t stay with her, sleep beside her, because he had to go home to his boy.
And he knew from experience the swelling could go down, the bruises recede, but it took weeks for a broken nose to heal, and the longer he gave her to do that, the less pain he might inadvertently cause making love to her.
So he had to give her as much time as they both could endure.
Which was two more days.
Therefore, he told her, “Shaw’s at his girl’s house, studying. Told you earlier in that text, babe, we were having dinner together tonight. That’s because I needed time with him. There’s stuff going down with Wendy’s family. Shaw’s feelin’ the need to keep an eye on her. But apparently, her folks let them study in her room. So I needed to lay some things out about that. I also need to be home when he gets there so I can give him the eagle eye to make sure nothin’ came of that.”
“Risky business, letting a handsome, young man study in your daughter’s bedroom,” she observed.
“Yup.”
Greta laughed softly.
“The stuff going down isn’t good stuff, baby, so it’s doubtful Shaw will go for anything.”
And this, he hoped his son wouldn’t do, knowing that her dad was growing sicker, weaker and depressed from his treatments, that depression also hitting the family since they had to watch it.
Hix had been wrong the night before. The doctors felt the treatments were working, but it was coming clear that road wasn’t going to be easy.
“Shaw’s a good guy, so you’re probably right,” she replied.
“I also shared I’d be disappointed if he took that road, even if it seemed Wendy needed that kind of closeness for whatever reason she would have.”
“And you’re a good dad,” she murmured before she went on, “Not an easy chat, darlin’. I feel your pain. I remember having that conversation with Andy. He’d been young but he’d been popular with the girls. Keith had already had it but I found condoms in his room so I had to have it again.”
“At least he had condoms,” Hix muttered, doing it thinking something else.
Thinking he kind of hoped the kid got himself some before having the chance at any normal relationship swept away by his mother.
Also thinking it hadn’t occurred to him how much of a parent Greta had been until she gave him that info.
She was right. It was not an easy conversation to have with your son, your brother or any kid. He knew that from past experience and some that was very recent.
And you didn’t do it, in most cases, unless you were a parent.
“He didn’t use them,” she shared. “He didn’t tell me that. He got ticked I talked to him about it because he was embarrassed. He complained to Keith and he told Keith that.”
Hix had no response she’d likely want to hear.
“And now, I kinda wish that he’d . . . you know,” she said.
He knew.
And he was beginning not to be surprised Greta’s thoughts ran the same way his did.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
Her fingers started fiddling with his fingers in a manner that he liked and Hix decided it was now time to take them out of this because it felt heavy, and she had to live that heavy every day. She didn’t need it on her porch when she was unwinding at night.
So he asked, “You do your porch thing all year long?”
He felt her head move and he knew she was looking up at him. “My porch thing?”
He twisted his neck again to look down at her. “Sittin’ out here to unwind at night.”
She grinned and settled back in, aiming her eyes to the street, so he did too and took a sip of his beer while she spoke.
“I have to give it up around Thanksgiving. I can bundle up but then it gets too chilly. I thought about getting a space heater but I have a great house. I might as well use more of it than my bed, kitchen and porch for a few months a year.”
He chuckled, replied, “Yeah,” and started returning the fiddle of fingers as he asked, “Why do you do it?”
“Sit on the porch?” she asked back.
“Yup.”
She flipped out her other hand toward the street. “Because of that.”
He was confused. “Your street?”
“That and the fact that it’s how it is. Quiet. Nice. People keep up their homes. Tend their yards. Plant flowers. Put out decorations. It’s a good view and it’s always changing. Plus they walk their dogs in front of my house and say hey, sometimes stop and chat.” She tipped her head on his shoulder so he knew she was looking at him again so he twisted his neck to catch her eyes. “I grew up in a trailer park.”
When she let that lie, he grinned at her and asked, “Am I supposed to take that as a dire admission?”
She laughed softly again and turned her attention back to the street.
He took in her hair, her smooth forehead, her taped nose, before he also turned back to the street while she was answering.
“Not really. But our park wasn’t a very good one. Even so, there were a lot of nice people in it. Good people. They helped look after me. Then when Andy came, they helped me look after him. But there was always a lot happening. A lot of noise. Folks fighting. Coming and going at all hours because that was their work schedule or it was their play schedule. Parties. Loud music. Cops showing. This . . . a place like this is like heaven.”
Hix stared at the street.
“I like the city,” she informed him. “I like malls and Cineplexes and nice restaurants. But I like better going to the grocery store and running into someone I know and having a natter. I like getting a coffee and knowing the lady who runs the place and she knows me because that’s the only coffee place in town. And it has good coffee, but it kinda feels like you’re getting coffee at a friend’s house. I like the fact that most people know most everyone else and they care. If someone dies, they make a casserole. Someone gets engaged, they buy a gift. I know there are bad seeds. I know bad stuff still happens. But it feels like . . . it kinda feels like the trailer park but without the bad parts. Like a big family. The good kind of family.”
Hix stared at the street feeling something move deep in his chest.
And he knew what that something was.
It was the understanding that that was what Hope had wanted them to have. Not just their family, but her giving it to Hix too.
She’d never explained it that way, maybe didn’t know how because it was what she grew up with. She just knew how good it was, and she wanted the people she loved to have it.
He’d just never understood it, the gift she’d wanted them to have.
Until now.
Greta must have felt his thoughts had turned because her head came off his shoulder and he felt her gaze.