Without Delaney, there’s a good chance I would have succumbed to a complete breakdown following Gina’s death. My parents were able to stay with me and Ben for a week after Gina died, but then they had to return to work back home in Nova Scotia. Delaney had the freedom to work remotely for her job on Wall Street, so she stayed with me for the first month after the accident, letting me ease into routines and helping me care for Ben and a broken wrist filled with metal plates and screws. Thereafter, she flew back and forth from Raleigh to New York regularly to continue to help me transition into life as a single and very heartbroken parent. I can never, ever repay her for what she did.
Getting out of the car, I head in through the interior door that leads to the laundry room, noting the soft chug of the dryer spinning with clothes. I hadn’t yet sat down with Kate to talk about her duties, but much like she took it upon herself to cook breakfast yesterday, she is having no problem stepping into the household chores.
The kitchen is empty, but I smell something delicious emanating from a Crock-Pot on the counter. I walk over and take a peek, pleased to see a pot roast starting to bubble inside. While I’m competent enough not to give Ben and myself food poisoning, I still hate cooking, so I will have to say that is one thing that will go into the benefit column about Kate: having meals served without the work or effort on my part and, more important, without them being burned or overcooked.
The first floor is entirely quiet, so I head up the stairs. I immediately hear peals of Ben’s laughter coming from his playroom, which is actually the bonus room over the garage that we had converted.
“Sing it again, Kate,” he yells.
When I look through the doorway, Ben’s back is to me as he sits cross-legged on the floor, facing a small couch that was up against one wall. Kate apparently moved it out a few feet and is currently hiding behind it, and I know this because I can see her hand sticking up, holding one of his stuffed animals, which is a dilapidated old skunk that he’s had since he was a baby. Gina hated that thing, but I thought it was kind of cute.
“Okay, are you ready for it again?” I hear Kate’s voice from behind the couch as she makes the skunk bounce up and down on the back edge.
“Yes,” Ben cries out, and claps his hands in excitement.
I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms over my chest, giving a hard rub right in the center with my thumb first. Watching Kate play with Ben brings back a flood of memories of Gina playing with him, which causes my heart to ache. She was a stay-at-home mom and all of her time was devoted to Ben. Countless times I stood just where I am now and watched mother and son as they played games, read books on that very couch, or sang songs.
It fucking hurts to watch someone else do it with him, but I remain quiet because he’s enjoying himself and the kid deserves that in spades.
The skunk starts moving back and forth on the back of the couch, Kate making it dance all around, causing Ben to giggle.
Then she starts singing in a nasal voice. “Oh, I stuck my head in a little skunk’s hole, and the little skunk said ‘Well a-bless my soul.’
“And what did the skunk say, Ben?” she calls out in her regular voice.
“Take it out, take it out, take it out, remove it,” he sings.
Kate laughs and starts singing again while making the skunk dance. “Well, I didn’t take it out and the little skunk said, ‘If you don’t take it out you will wish you did.’ ”
“Take it out, take it out, take it out, remove it,” Ben sings at the top of his lungs.
Then the skunk disappears and I hear Kate blow the biggest, wettest fart sound I’ve ever heard, which causes Ben to roll onto his back and hold on to his stomach while he laughs. Kate’s head pops up and she’s holding her nose while she grins at Ben. “Phew! I removed it.”
Ben thrashes on the floor giggling, and Kate immediately sees me standing there, her eyes cutting to me with a sheepish grin. “Look who’s home, Whipper Snapper Zapper.”
Ben lifts his head to look at Kate, who nods toward me. Ben then tilts his head backward to look at me from upside down. When he sees it’s me, he immediately rolls, jumps to his feet, and yells, “Yay! Dad’s home.”
He runs on his little legs across the room, and by the time I uncross my arms from over my chest, he’s launching himself at me. It’s a feeling that every person should experience just once in his or her life…having your child running toward you with unfettered joy to be in your arms.
I pick him up, hoist him in the air, and blow a raspberry on his neck. His hands come up to clutch at my face as he tries to push me away because this always tickles him mercilessly. “Stop it, Dad.”