Once the furniture was gone, we took a trip to the hardware store. Mac went slightly ballistic at our choice to venture out as a group but no one gave us any trouble. Maeve and Yael allowed me to make the final decision on paint, but I had a feeling if I reached for green, they would have vetoed me hard.
Murray was waiting for us when we got back, and the five of us got to work. Maeve and Murray did edges, while the rest of us rolled. I couldn’t say I’d ever painted before, but it wasn’t too difficult.
“Smile.”
Yael took my picture when I twisted around to look at her.
“You didn’t smile,” she said.
“Does this really need to be documented?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Might be nice to show the bambino one day.”
I exhaled, stowing away my temper. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I doubt our dad had anything to do with decorating our nurseries.”
She snorted. “Can you imagine Dad picking out cribs and paint colors? If he’d had a hand in it, our bedrooms would have been plastered with the finance section of the newspaper and applications to Harvard.”
I rubbed my forehead, most likely swiping paint across my skin. “I was kind of thinking of having a mobile made with guitars hanging from it. Is that too much like Dad? Pushing my career onto the kid?”
“The fact that you’re even worried about that shows you’re nothing like Dad. And I think that’s adorable.”
Yael had followed the path laid out for her…to a degree. She’d gone to college, majored in business, and had a “real job,” even if it was working for me. I’d started down that path, the one my dad had blazed, and while college hadn’t been terrible, it wasn’t me. I’d been a profound disappointment to my old man, and he never failed to tell me that. If I did nothing else right, I’d make sure this kid knew their life was their own, and whatever beat they marched to, I’d cheer them on. Maybe that was easy to say since the kid wasn’t in the world yet, but…I don’t know, I was pretty confident I’d come through.
“Too bad I have no idea how I’d go about finding someone to make a mobile.”
“I’m sure I know someone who can do it,” Maeve offered. “Will you let me take care of it?”
“Yeah.” That rock in my chest grew. “That’d be so rad.”