She looks up at me and smiles sadly. I kiss her nose and whisper, “Let’s go home. I can talk to Harley later. Tonight, I need to be with you."
Proceeding through the bar, we exit out into the warm summer heat. I open the passenger door to my truck, allowing Brit to slide in. Shutting her door, I jog around the front, anxious to get home so that I can show Brit exactly how much she means to me.
My truck roars to life and I reach over with my right hand to grab onto Brit’s, entwining our fingers and bringing them to rest on my thigh. She smiles sweetly. I know Brit feels bad about what happened with Harley tonight because she knows how much Harley means to me. But I also know Brit will have plenty to say about it when we get home—she's never really cared for Harley.
Pulling up to the road, I signal to take a left turn, and for no particular reason, I glance into my rearview mirror. My gaze catches on Harley's red Mustang, and I furrow my brow in confusion.
If she's still there, where is she?
“MAX, PLEASE COME IN here so we can put your shoes on. We really need to get going, buddy."
Getting out of the house in the morning would be so much easier if I were actually organized. But...I’m not. I could probably speed up the Harley and Max morning extrication process if I would pre-select our clothes the night before and pre-make our lunches. Unfortunately for me, by the time I get home from work, make dinner, play with Max, bathe Max, and coerce Max into going to bed, I’m simply too exhausted to plan for the next day. Therefore, every morning I’m running around the house like a chicken with my head cut off while I try to get us out the door in a timely fashion.
“Wee oooo, weeee oooo, weeeee oooo." Max comes flying into the kitchen, sliding across the floor in his socks. “Officer Max toooooo the rescuuuuue!”
“Oh, thank God you’re here, Officer Max,” I croon. “I have a huge emergency." I exaggerate my movements and point to his tennis shoes, which are sitting by the refrigerator. “See those shoes? They need feet! Do you have feet?"
“Yes ma’am, I do,” he says, nodding his head curtly.
“You, Officer Max, will save my whole entire day if you will put those shoes on your feet!”
“No, mom!" he whines, rolling his eyes. Do they seriously start that this early? “I’m here to rescue, not save the day." Sliding his feet into his shoes, he leans back onto his hands, presenting me with his feet. “Double knot this time, mom. They always untie.”
“You got it, Officer Max." I make quick work of tying his shoes, then ruffle his hair and grab his lunch box.
I’ve never been a morning person. I’d consider myself more of a night owl, but there is just something about the cool morning air that always makes me happy. It symbolizes the start of another day...a new day. There was once a time when I would dread the start of a new day. But I pulled through. I survived, and now I live for new days.
I wish I could say my journey to this happy place was an easy one, but I’d be lying. It was a bitch. My soul was tried and tested, along with the patience of the people I love most in my life. But with their persistence and support, I was able to find peace and smile once again.
Once we're in the car and buckled in, my eyes find Max in the rearview mirror. “Finger out of the nose, please.”
“Geez, how do you do that?" he whines.
“Do what?”
“Catch me.”
“I have eyes in the back of my head," I deadpan, my smile bursting to break free.
“What?” he gasps. “You do?”
“Yup, mommies see everything. Remember that, okay?”
He nods solemnly. “Okay, but can you see through doors?”
“Sometimes. I just have to concentrate reaaaally hard.”
“Someday, can I see through doors and grow eyes in the back of my head?”
Chuckling softly, I respond, “Someday, buddy. Probably when you become a daddy.”
He scrunches his brows. “Huh?”
Oh Lord, I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut. Haven’t I learned my lesson yet? Every answer results in another question, and another question and another question…
“Alright buddy, we’re here,” I announce, grateful that the trip to Max's daycare is a short one. Hopping out of the car, I reach into the back and unhook Max from his booster seat. Grabbing his lunch box, I hurriedly walk him to the door. “Okay, Max. Mommy loves you. I’ll see you when I get off work." I bend to hug him, but he’s already bouncing off to where his friends are sitting down, playing with fire trucks.
His teacher, Maria, walks up and smiles as she reaches for his lunch box. “Have a good day, Harley. We’ll see you tonight.”