揥e抣l see about that, little man. It ain抰 over till it抯 over.?
Twenty minutes later, it抯 over . . . and we beat them. Afterward my championship team basks in the sweet glow of victory as we all sit around the patio table eating and drinking and talking.
揇ad, can we pleeeeease get a trampoline this year??Spencer asks. 揑抦 ten now梩hat抯 double digits. I抦 way more mature than when I was just nine.?
As an emergency medicine doctor, there are certain items I抳e sworn never to own梚n my mind it抯 a vow just slightly less sacred than the Hippocratic Oath. A garbage disposal, a motorcycle, and a trampoline are the top three梑ecause they抮e disasters waiting to happen. Most people think falling off a trampoline is the biggest risk, but they抮e wrong. The bone snapping, ligament-tearing rebound and midair collisions are the real hazards.
揘ot happening, Spence. Not now, not ever.?
Plus桰 have three boys. They抮e not exactly known for thinking through the consequences of their actions.
It was only last summer that I caught Brayden and two of his friends carrying my weights up from the basement, that they were going to tie to their ankles because they wanted to see how many pounds it would take to sink them to the bottom of the pool . . . and keep them there.
Yeah梩hat actually happened.
I don抰 even want to contemplate what they抎 do with a trampoline and their bikes, their skateboards . . .
揃ut this one has an excellent safety rating!?Spencer whines, holding up his phone to display a trampoline marketed as 搒afe?that looks exactly the same as the rest of them.
In the chair beside me, Violet shakes her head gently.
揑f you saw some of the gnarly trampoline injuries that come into the hospital, you wouldn抰 want one either, Spencer.?
I抦 not sure if she says it purposely, but few things will distract a ten-year-old faster than the detailed description of horrific injuries.
揜eally? How gnarly??
揥ell, there was that time a guy came in with hyperextended knees in both legs梙e needed surgery.?
I nod. 揟hat was a memorable one.?
揥hat抯 hyperextended mean??Spencer asks.
Violet demonstrates with her hands. 揑t means the knee bends backward.?
He reaches down for his own knees. 揔nees do that??
揟hey抮e not supposed to.?
揥hat else??
As Violet recounts the tale of the mom and the multiple skull fractures, Brayden calls to me from the lounge chair by the pool.
揌ey, Dad!?
揥hat抯 up??I call back.
揗om texted me. She抯 going to Joyce抯 and wants to know if we want to go to dinner with her after.?
Stacey was supposed to see the boys this past Saturday but she canceled the day before because she said she got called into work. It used to piss me off when she canceled on them梞ostly because it bothered them. But it doesn抰 bother them anymore . . . and I can抰 figure out if that抯 good or bad.
揟ell her I抦 a no,?Aaron says from the diving board. 揑抦 gonna hang here a little longer and then a bunch of us are going to Smitty抯 house for an end of the summer party.?
On the days she doesn抰 cancel, I leave it up to the boys if they want to go with her or not. At their age, I think it抯 important to give them that sense of control over their own time.
揑t抯 your call, Bray,?I tell him. 揑f you want to go to dinner with your mom, it抯 fine with me.?
He scans the backyard, filled with his uncles and aunts, cousins and grandparents.
Then he shrugs. 揑抎 rather just stay here. If I go, I have to get changed.?
Changing clothes is apparently a real burden for teenagers. Right up there with making sure the fitted sheet is actually on the mattress and not amassing a collection of empty water bottles under their beds.
揗om texted me too, Dad,?Spencer says. 揑抦 gonna tell her I want to stay here tonight. But I抣l go with her this weekend.?
I give him a smile. 揝ounds good, Spence.?
*
A few hours later I抦 at the grill, cooking up another round of burgers and hot dogs for the crew. Through the hazy, fragrant smoke, my eyes find Violet across the yard梥tanding next to Callie and my mother, her hair in a long dark braid down her back, her face tilted up to the sun, laughing at something one of them said.
And for the thousandth time, I抦 slammed right in the chest. Not just by how pretty she is but . . . by how fucking sublime it feels to have her here. The way she blends so beautifully into my life梬ith the people I love the most.
My parents are already enamored with her. It抯 there in the warm, affectionate tone of their voices and the gratitude in their eyes when they talk to her.
And I really get that.
Because I抦 a father. And if one day one of my kids goes through a brutal end to a relationship, I抣l worry about him. I抣l worry that he抯 lonely or hurting or unhappy. And someone like Violet is exactly whom I抎 wish for him to find.
A woman who抯 loving and genuine梐 woman who抣l bring joy back into his life. Back into his heart.
I turn my gaze back to the grill, flipping the burgers and grinning like a goddamn idiot. Because today has been a great day. A perfect day.
Until it抯 not.
My phone pings on the counter next to me with an incoming text.
From Stacey.
I抦 out front. I want to talk to you.
Awesome. The message every man wants to get from his ex-wife.
揌ey, Garrett.?I jerk my head for him to come over. 揥atch the grill. Stacey抯 out front, I have to go talk to her.?
My family doesn抰 hate my ex-wife梩hat抯 not the kind of people they are梐nd she抣l always be the mother of my kids. But it抯 safe to say she抯 not their favorite person on the planet either.
Garrett takes the spatula from my hand and lifts his beer at me.
揈njoy. I抦 sure that抣l be all kinds of fun.?
I slip my T-shirt over my head and walk through the house and out the front door.
Stacey抯 silver BMW is parked at the curb. She抯 standing next to the passenger-side door, her black shoulder-length hair styled in loose waves, wearing black shorts, sandals, and a sleeveless white blouse. Her manicured toenails and fingernails are painted the same deep red as her lips and the small designer bag that hangs from her wrist.
Objectively, I recognize that she抯 a good-looking woman梥he always was. But there抯 no attraction or fondness for what I see梟ot even a stirring of nostalgia for the actual good moments we once shared.
What stands out most to me is the hard set of her mouth, her defensive stance, and the sharp narrowing of her eyes as I approach. Everything about her screams annoyed and bitter梐nd ready for a fight.
揥hat抯 up??I ask.
揑 was at my mother抯 and I asked the boys if they wanted to go to dinner and they all said no.?
揧eah, they told me.?
Her voice is clipped and irritated. 揑 haven抰 seen Spencer in three weeks. Brayden and Aaron in over a month. I want them to come to dinner with me and it抎 be nice if you抎 help me out with that. For once.?
揥hat do you expect me to do? Hog-tie them and toss them in your trunk? They don抰 want to go. And not to be a dick, but they were set to see you Saturday and you blew them off.?
Her eyes flash. 揑 had to work, Connor! You of all people should understand that.?
揥hat happened to Sunday? Were you working then too??
Her handbag swings as she flails her arms. 揈xcuse me for needing a day to myself. That抯 a crime now, I guess.?
I push a hand through my hair, tugging a little.
揑抦 not saying it抯 a crime. But don抰 give me a hard time梠r the kids a hard time梚f they don抰 immediately rearrange their plans because you抳e suddenly decided at the last minute that you feel like taking them out. That抯 bullshit.?