Picking up my water bottle, I throw it against the cabinet, feeling a little better as I watch the water race down the slick wood surface. Model homes don’t have water-stained cabinets.
I grab Pancho’s leash, slip on my running shoes, and take us for a light jog around the neighborhood. Purposely, I leave my phone at home, hoping that Charlie will call—a bunch of times—and I will not answer. She needs to feel some of the misery, loneliness, and angst that I’m feeling right now.
Petty.
Yes.
Bratty.
Yes.
Don’t care.
Pancho and I complete about three miles. I know that he’s missing his morning runs with Charlie, and he makes me stop two houses from ours and remove his leash so he can run to the house, just as she’s taught him. He waits by the back gate for me to let him in. I get a twinge in my heart when he checks the cars in the garage, and runs in the house. “There’s no one for you to find, boy. It’s just us,” I say to him.
The first thing I do when I walk into the kitchen is check my phone. There are no missed calls, but I did get a text from Charlie.
Charlie: It’s been a hell of a day. Thanks for the flowers. I’ll call you in the morning.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Ten
Charlie
Wake up.
Quick run with Miguel trailing me.
Brad feeds Ainsley, while I take a shower.
Get Ainsley clean from breakfast.
Get Ainsley dressed.
Get me dressed while I have my first cup of coffee.
Drop Ainsley off at my mom’s house for Amy to watch her.
Try to keep my father’s failing medical practice in the black.
Deal with patients who are upset that my father is dead. Not my fault!
Fight insurance companies.
Calm a panicking Carmen that she’s not going to lose her home.
Pick up Ainsley from my mom’s house.
Feed Ainsley, Brad, and myself.
Bathe Ainsley.
Put Ainsley to bed.
Collapse on the couch with Brad, and drink wine until my heart rate returns to normal.
Give Colin thirty minutes of my night, even if sometimes I find it difficult to speak because I’m so mentally drained.
Crawl into bed.
Repeat again tomorrow.
And the next day.
And the day after that.
Chapter Eleven
Colin
Charlie and Ainsley have been back to Dallas once since her father passed away, and that was for only two nights. I’m counting down the days until Thanksgiving. She’s closing the office for the week. I get my girls for eight days. Of course, I have two football games in those eight days, but I’ll get to fall asleep and wake up with the two most important ladies in my life—thrilled is an understatement. The word ecstatic comes to mind.
Pancho and I’ve been spinning like the Tasmanian Devil through the house, trying to spruce it up. Alice is right alongside me, shooing me out of the way, but I can’t stop. It’s nervous energy.
I keep reminding Pancho that today’s the day Charlie and Ainsley are coming home. By the time that practice is over, they should be here. Chef is preparing one of our favorite meals. Alice has brought a few of Ainsley’s most treasured toys downstairs so we can all hang out in the family room after supper. Jenny offered to keep Ainsley for us so Charlie could come to my game tomorrow. I’m hoping that we can decorate the house for Christmas while she’s here. This will be Ainsley’s first Christmas, and I want it to be perfect. Only Charlie can put those special Griswold touches to our house that makes it feel like home around the holidays.
I make our bed, and tighten the sheets. Charlie likes the sheets tight. Pancho and I’ve been living a bit like bachelors, so I check under the bed to make sure that there aren’t any socks or dirty underwear that have accidentally wandered there instead of the dirty-clothes hamper. I discover one of Pancho’s rawhides. Charlie makes Pancho enjoy those delights only in the laundry room or outside. I pull it out, showing him the evidence of our bachelor ways. “Dude, these have to stay in the laundry room, or your mom is going to kill us.”
Pancho hangs his brown-and-black spotted head as if he understands every word that I’m saying. He knows that he’s being chastised. He could be in Mensa for dogs.
I go back under the bed skirt, looking for incriminating evidence, and find two random socks, and a pair of skin-colored G-string lace panties. They make a huge shit-eating grin spread across my face as my dick reminds me how they got there. Just as I’m bringing out the proof of my last tryst with my wife, Jenny clears her throat.
I belly crawl out from under the bed before I sit up on my knees to see what she wants. Her hair is a very normal shade of platinum blonde today. I have to say, I miss the colors when she decides to go conservative.