Pretty Hurts (5 page)

“Hi, Amanda. Hey, bro.”

“Hey, sis, long time no see,” Aren says with an easy smile. He’s a lot like my father—laid back and warm.

“I know, work’s kept me busy.”

“We need to plan a weekend for you to come out soon,” Amanda states.

“I’d love that. I’ll look at my calendar when I get home, later on tonight,” I reply, committing to making plans. “I’m going to say hi to Dad, and see if Mom needs any help.” Standing, I walk over to my father. In his seventies, he still cuts an impressive figure at six foot one, with a cleanly shaven head, clear skin, and an easy smile that stands out against his dark brown skin. He opens his arms, and I hug him sideways.

“Hi, Dad.”

“There’s my baby girl. How’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy with work and helping Liv plan her gender reveal party.”

“I’m so glad she and her young man made it official. Seemed to me that they were together a lot longer than they let on and just didn’t realize it.”

I laugh. “That’s exactly what happened there.”

“Anyone new for you?” he asks.

I think of Edgar. “Maybe. I’ll let you know when I have more intel.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and I know he wants more information.

“It’s still new. We’re friends, but I think he has potential.”

“Honey, coming from you that says a lot.”

“Don’t tell Mom.”

He pats my shoulders. “Hasn’t your old man always been able to keep a secret?”

“Yes, Daddy, and I love you for that.” I kiss his cheek. “I’m going to go see if Mom needs anything.”

I spend the next couple of hours avoiding my aunt, playing with the kids, and catching up with Amanda and Aren.

“It’s getting late and I know two kids who still need baths, so we’ll excuse ourselves,” Amanda says.

“Aww, Mom, we’re not tired,” Gregory mutters as he blinks slowly.

“Yeah,” Charlotte says around a yawn.

“I know, but I am.” Amanda gives us a wink as she ushers them from the table.

“I’m going to go help,” Aren says.

He’s such a great father. I love seeing him interact with his family.

“Feeling baby fever?” Aunt Rhonda asks.

“Just proud of my big brother,” I reply with a shrug.

“Humph. Tick tock, girl. I’m going to call it a night myself. I’m still feeling a bit jet-lagged.”

“Night, Aunt Rhonda.”
And good riddance.

My mom and dad exchange a look, and he stands. “I’ll leave you ladies to talk. Good night, baby girl.” My dad kisses my head as he walks away.

“You want to tell me what’s bothering you?” my mom asks.

I blink. “What?”

“I know you, honey. You don’t let Rhonda get to you, and I’ve sensed a sadness in you for months now. I tried to give you time to work through it, but I can see in your eyes you’re still in a bad place. Is everything okay with work?”

I open my mouth, and the lie dies on my tongue. I don’t know how to break it to her gently, so I unwind my head scarf.
“Oh my God, what happened to all your beautiful hair, baby?”

“I have Alopecia, Mama.” I can’t hold back the tears as she moves over to hug me and I break in front of the one person who’s always been my rock.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. We’ll get through this the same way we always have, together. Hair isn’t everything.”

Her words alleviate my worst fears. I was worried she’d be embarrassed or ashamed of me.

“I feel so ugly, Mama.”

“Oh no, my baby is beautiful inside and out. Nothing will change that.” Her words are a soothing salve to my stinging and battered pride and sense of self. Right or wrong, a woman’s femininity is so entwined with her appearance, especially her hair. I’m battling with preconceived notions I hadn’t realized I subscribed to until this happened. It’s a rocky road, but now that I have my number one ally on my side it feels so much more bearable.

***

Edgar

I knock on the door and smile as Addler’s wife, Abby, answers.

“Hey, Edgar.”

“Hi, thanks for having me.” I step in and hug her.

“Someone has been waiting for you to get her all afternoon,” she says.

I grin. “Where’s my goddaughter at?” I ask loudly.

The sound of giggles comes from the living room. I follow them. “Where could she be?” I ask as I slowly turn around, spotting a suspicious lump on the couch beneath a dark pink blanket.

“Maybe she’s in the fireplace,” I say, walking away from the couch. Her laughter grows louder.

“No, not there. Maybe she’s under the table. Hmm, nope.” I tap my chin.

Addie tosses off the blanket. “I’m here, Uncle Edgar.”

“Oh, there she is.” She hops off the couch and I kneel to catch her in my arms. Her soft blonde curls tickle my nose. I inhale her sweet scent as she cuddles into me.

“I missed you, Uncle Edgar.”

“I missed you, too, baby doll.”

“Can you play dolls with me until dinner?” she asks.

“Sure, if that’s okay with your mommy and daddy.” I glance over at Abby and Addler who nod.

“It’ll give me time to finish dinner,” Addler replies.

“Yay. I got some new ones,” Addy says.

“Duty calls, brother,” I state, leaving him to man the grill solo.

She takes me to the playroom where I’m promptly handed a brunette Barbie. “This is Hayley. You can play with her.”

“Okay.” I take my voice up an octave. “What are we going to do today, Addie?”

She laughs. “We’re going swimming in our pool.”

I make the doll
walk
over to the pool set up behind the blue roof topped, two-story dream house.

“Oh, I love to swim,” I say, laying the Southern accent on thick.

She laughs and wiggles her red-haired Barbie. “Me too, Hayley.”

We take our dolls to many places—the mall, a fair, and a library—before Abby comes to announce dinner will be ready.

“Okay, Miss Addison, it’s time for you to put away your toys, wash your hands, and come to the table.”

“But, Mom, we didn’t get our library books yet,” Addie whines.

“Addison.”

She sighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t worry. We can play again another time, okay?” I say.

She nods and moves to place her dolls into the plastic Tupperware bin designated as their holding space.

“I’ll watch her, you go get cleaned up,” Abby says.

“Yes, ma’am.” I walk down the hall to the guest bathroom. The powder blue room reminds me of the ocean with its nautical theme and decorative seashell soap. I quickly wash my hands and move to the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask as Addler cuts up steak for Addison.

“Nope, we kept it pretty low-key. Steak, twice baked potatoes, roasted corn, a pecan and cranberry salad, and the perfect ending to any meal, Abby’s apple pie.”

My mouth waters as I inhale the rich smells. “We ready to set out the drinks?”

“Yeah, you can do that.”

I move to get Addie’s tumbler. “Half water, half apple juice?”

“Yes, sir.”

I’ve been over enough to know how dinnertime works. I finish setting up the table and dole out cups; leaving a pitcher of water on the table for everyone, and two beers for Addler and I.

Abby and Addie resurface, and the food is set in the center of the large, rectangular oak table. They may be a small family of three, but they love to entertain.

“Are we ready to eat?” Abby asks as she sits between Addie and Addler.

“Yes, ma’am,” Addler says with a bright smile that only she can coax out of them. Being around the two made me believe in soulmates. Not to say they haven’t had their ups and downs—nothing is impeccable—but there’s a beauty in flawed things that perfect things never quite capture. Perfection is an illusion. The people who look like cookie cutter modelesque families are usually the ones neck deep in drama.

The food and the conversation are excellent as we get caught up and I marvel at how much Addie has grown. Because I don’t see her every day, each time we get together she’s learned so much. It feels like it’s all happening in the blink of an eye. Once she finishes her food, Addie is ushered off to her bath after a hug and a promise that I’ll tell her good night before bed.

“Help me with the dishes and we’ll head outside to finish our beer?” Addler asks.

“Sounds good to me,” I reply. I like their rules. The cook doesn’t have to clean. They share duties around the home and with Addie. I like the partnership concept. He rinses the plates off, and I place them into the dishwasher. We’re done in a few moments, and we step aside. I can feel the weight of his words as he takes a long pull from his bottle.

“We’re going to try for number two. We don’t want Addie to be an only child.”

So that’s what’s on his mind.
“That’s great, man.”

“I’ll never tell Abby this, but I’m worried. With her age, we’re in the geriatric pregnancy zone and the chances of complication are higher. When I think of all the time I spent being not ready to settle down, and then not ready to be a father I can’t help but wonder if I made a mistake we’re all going to pay for.”

“You can’t look at it like that, man. We can’t go back in time and change things for one. For another, who we are now is so different from the person we were then. Our choices helped us become this version of ourselves. Who knows what changing things would do to our current reality.”

“You went really Timey Whimy with that,” he remarks, making me chuckle at the Doctor Who reference.

“Maybe, but I stand by what I said. Look, you and Abby took your time to enjoy yourselves as a married couple. You had adventures, and built your relationship foundation strong. It fortified you, made you ready to put eighteen plus years of hard work and sacrifice in. Kids are a blessing. But that doesn’t make them easy. You didn’t believe you were ready before, and I’d have to say you were probably right. Waiting until you felt mentally and monetarily prepared is a sign of intelligence and maturity. While yes, you two may be older, you’re also incredibly healthy and active. You’re going to be just fine.”

He drains the rest of his beer and turns to me with a thoughtful expression etched on his features. “Thank you for that.” A moment of silence passes between us and I take the time to finish my own drink.

“Now that you played shrink for me, are you going to tell me how your non date went?”

I chuckle. “It was a lot of fun. She’s a blast, man. We clowned our way through the movie and took cheesy photos. It was great. We even talked about getting together again.”

“Are you going to follow up with that?”

“I think I am. It was easy with her, you know? I’m not used to that after five years with Marilyn. I love her for the woman she was, but low-maintenance she was not. If nothing else, I’ll end up with a new friend to do things with.” It’s a falsehood. The second it leaves my lips, I want to take it back. The chemistry we generate will need to be addressed eventually. The vibe I’m getting isn’t
just friends.

“Do you actually believe that? I’ve known you a long time. I know how you can be about women. You’re into this one.”

“I think we both know my picker isn’t the best,” I admit.

“No, you just hold on when you should let go,” he replies.

I sigh. “I thought when I asked Marilyn to marry me we’d be together forever.”

“And you might have been if she hadn’t changed her mind about wanting children. But to be fair, she was always on the fence about that.”

His words ring true. I knew when we first got involved she wasn’t sure if she wanted children or not. But I let her beauty, charm, and common interests blind me.

“It came out of nowhere. One minute we’re planning our wedding, and the next, she’s desperate to have a baby because her biological clock is ticking. I never understood the abrupt shift.”

“Maybe she’d been holding it in for a long time, so when it came out it was ramped up by months of silence?”