Shaking his head before creasing a smile.
“I guess I’ll pack these away,” he says, flushing a little once he realizes he’s staring.
Frank’s been spending a little more time over here. Picking up pointers before his own daughter makes him a grandpa.
“Mooooommm!!!” Molly screams. Making me wince and Harrison yells a curse word, making Frank yell at Harrison not to curse in the house.
“Molly, what is it?” Megan asks our daughter. Calmly. Knowingly.
By now I’d like to know myself just what’s going on. But I’ll need the facts before I can start to lay down the law.
“Did you get the ticket?” Molly says in a low voice, stopping to tug at her mom’s dress long enough to act sensible for a moment.
My throat itches for some reason. Like I can’t swallow.
“A ticket?” I ask, shooting Megan a look as she cocks her brow.
The corner of her mouth shifts just a little.
“She wanted a scratch ticket, said it was for… I dunno… something,” she says innocently.
“She’s five, Megan. What’s Molly gonna do with a scratch ticket?” I ask. The edge in my voice is unmistakable.
But it’s too late.
Megan has already finished into her handbag that doubles as a baby changing station and pulled out a silver scratch ticket.
The kind you buy for a buck at the convenience store. It’s barely out of her bag before Molly snatches it, giggling like…
Well. Giggling like a little girl as she takes off up the hall again. Closing her bedroom door.
“Did she find her dolly?” Megan asks, holding her back as she moves to the nearest chair.
“Oh, not you too?” I groan, suddenly feeling like the odd one out.
“Honey? Why did Molly want a scratch ticket?” I ask her again.
But she only shrugs in reply.
“Some gifts were made to be shared, Harry.” She smiles cryptically. But it hardly puts me out of my misery.
My first and probably only flash of brilliance since my gift left me, hits me like a thunderbolt.
Megan got it.
I gave it to her that night. Our first night.
Her first time.
And not only her, but Harrison, and Molly too by the looks.
They all did.
And there I was thinking I was so clever when it pegged that Harrison was a chip off the old block in more ways than one.
“Now get over here and rub my feet, will ya?” she teases me. But I’m already on it.
Not surprising her when I set baby Josh down in his crib in the living room before doing the same with her on the couch. Lifting off her shoes, I set to work.