So we were kind of an awkward trio, but not hostile. Not resentful. Just cautious to the point of mild discomfort.
I understand why she had to go. Jack may not forgive me immediately, but he understands too, deep down. She has a boyfriend? Or something like that? The way she says it, I don’t think it’s actually a boyfriend situation, but she may not be ready to admit that to herself. And she does have a job. And she may not want to be anywhere around us. That feels bizarre to me, but maybe that’s just the way it is. Maybe we spent the last few years apart on purpose.
That means Jack and I are going to have to figure out what comes next. It’s so strange that Maddie just up and quit. I had gotten accustomed to our routine. Accustomed to having somebody pick up the slack, if I’m being honest. A woman in the house just feels… natural.
But she had a point too. We were definitely not the life that she wanted. I should’ve realized that Maddie was angling for something permanent. Something official. Deep down, I knew it. I just didn’t want to deal with it.
But we will be okay, I am sure. At least, I can keep telling myself that. Jack and I… Ned and Matthew… We are all made from the same cloth. We’ll figure it out.
Besides, I don’t truly miss the awkwardness of having Maddie around. It never felt totally natural. There was a polite stiffness. An unease. We were strangers.
Like when Chelsea came, we were strangers too. But that was different. We were eager to—eventually—accept her. Maddie was just the opposite. We were determined to keep her at arm’s length. With Chelsea, we knew in the back of our minds we had to make room for her in our hearts, no matter how hard it was.
Then again, maybe the closeness between Jack and me made any potential family blending inevitably awkward. Even if our new stepmother had a boy. Or two boys. Or even twin boys. Probably it would’ve felt weird.
But I couldn’t imagine it another way.
Jack and I are like two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same seed. Two peanuts in a peanut shell.
I’m sure you get the picture.
And Ned and Matthew are shaping up kind of the same way. Sometimes I wonder if they have a bit of a secret language, even. Watching them now, fully focused on yet another city made of wooden blocks and Matchbox cars and figurines, I swear I hear them talking to each other. Or maybe not even talking. Sometimes it seems like one of them will look up knowingly when the other one hasn’t said anything at all.
I guess that wouldn’t be weird, would it? Jack and I do the same thing.
This is one of my favorite times. Saturday morning with our sons, just hanging out. The cartoons are still on in the background. I give them sugary cereals for breakfast as a treat, though Jack claims he’s more of a fresh fruit and yogurt kind of guy when it comes to the kids. Not sure that’s really true. I’ve seen him go for the Frosted Flakes more than once, no matter what he says.
But after Ned and Matthew finished their Cocoa Puffs, I did slice up an apple for extra bonus points. That way, if Jack says anything, I am all about the fresh fruit.
Cartoons are different these days, though. Yet, they barely pay attention. Once in a while Ned will glance up, his expression serious and focused. That only lasts for about eight seconds before he’s drawn back into the construction project.
I love watching their little hands build things. I don’t know why it’s funny, but it is funny. Tiny little paws, roly-poly fingers, pudgy palms. Every day it seems like they are more dexterous, but it still just floors me how adorable it is. All that concentration to balance a yellow block on top of the blue one. You’d think it was the most serious job in the world.
Matthew looks around, surveying the towers and meandering paths of the blocks, the traffic backup of Matchbox cars. Then suddenly he leans back, resting his weight on his palms and pistons one leg to knock over a full quarter of the building. For a second he grins in sadistic delight, until Ned bellows in outrage.
Matthew is startled, then defensive.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I intervene immediately. “Matthew, are you going to put them back together?”
Ned glares at him, his lips pressed tightly together. He isn’t crying. Not yet. He’s waiting to see what’s going to happen. That’s a good boy.
Matthew sticks his lower lip out but grabs a couple of blocks. He pushes them back toward the stack stubbornly, not really conceiving that he’s going to rebuild the whole thing entirely.
Okay, I guess playtime is over.
We already ate. We just had playtime. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? Baths? It’s a little early. Maybe go for a walk?
“What would Maddie do? Shit.”
“Shit,” Ned repeats dutifully.
“Nice one,” Jack calls out from the corner of the room.
“Hey, can you watch these guys for a sec?” I ask as I stand, edging away slightly. “I just want to run and check something in the garage.”
“No way, brother,” he chuckles. “It’s your turn. I have some things to catch up on.”
The boys both look up at me as I stand, their expressions uncertain and expectant.