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They both nod, and I smirk. The day Kyla came into the world, I realised it was, in fact, possible Sally could become even more beautiful, but when our grandsons were born, her beauty grew beyond any logical reasoning. Where I was born to be Pope and not Thomas, Sally was born to shine as a mother and a grandmother. Her love is coated in patience and serenity, and it stretches far beyond anyone I know.
“Good boys. Now you can run off.”
At six years old, they’re already a force to be reckoned with. I shouldn’t be proud that Kyla and Ricky are constantly called into the school and that last week, they were nearly expelled, but I kind of was. My grandsons aren’t sheep that follow society’s rules. They weren’t born for that shit.
“Hey, Dad.”
Kyla steps out of the back door with little Victoria perched on her hip.
“Mom said you’re worried it’s gonna rain, but it’s not forecast, so I wouldn’t worry, though I’m surprised you are.”
I grin. My Sally is never wrong. It’ll rain just like she said, and once again, the weather fucker on the radio will be proved wrong.
Ricky is next out with a six-pack of beer. Thank fuck. I like my son-in-law and club brother. Out of everyone I do mind being around, him, I don’t. I pass him the grill utensils and take hold of my granddaughter.
“Here, your turn to cook.”
“Brother, you invited us over?”
“And I’m gonna allow you to cook.”
I’m sure all grandparents feel as though their grandchildren are exceptional, but this little girl is going to be one particular person. Compared to the twins, she was the quietest baby in history. She barely cried loud enough to be heard. Her growing personality is already a one-eighty to Mason and Myles. To their boisterous natures, Victoria is soft and timid. She is happy to be on her own when Kyla gets on with the housework. Or when we have her for the night, she’s content to sit in her bouncy chair beside me on the back porch. In contrast, the twins want to ride on their minibikes or constantly run around the place.
I hear a camera click and look up to see Kyla taking a picture, the camera pointing my way. It’s taken some getting used to having someone clicking away on the camera all the time. I should’ve been used to it with Alannah always wanting to capture memories and with Sally being the same when Kyla was young. But the camera is never far from Kyla. Sometimes, I think she legitimately fears missing a moment on film.
“You always have the magic touch with her.”
I look down, and Victoria’s fallen asleep against my chest.
Most would come back with a retort along the lines of “It comes naturally.” But I can’t open my mouth. Because, in all honesty, this doesn’t come naturally. Not to me. There was only one time Kyla fell asleep in my arms as a baby, and that was only because she screamed herself to sleep. She made herself so tired she had no choice. I swore she could sense my fear of being a father. I’m not as fearful of my grandkids but what I do know is all I learned from Sal and Kyla. And from watching brothers with their kids.
“Dad? Are you okay? You’re kinda zoning out.”
I snap back to reality. “I’m good, darlin’.”
“That’s good cause Cas, Alannah, and the boys are here. Time to host.”
My sigh is so heavy it rattles my chest. Anything my president orders me to do, I’ll do, but playing host for the afternoon is a Hell I don’t want to endure. I’ll be spending my fair share of time in Hell after I depart this world, but this is far worse.
I’m the one who attends cookouts and sits off to the side. This being my cookout, I’m the one people will look to for their drinks and condiments that have been forgotten to be put out.
Kyla takes Victoria from me and takes her inside. There’s no getting out of this afternoon. I pull my ass up from the chair and grab two beers.
Joining Rick at the grill, I pass him one of the beers and crack mine open.
“Didn’t know the prez was coming, huh?”
“It’s fine.”
There are four minutes before the afternoon really begins, and I take one of the deepest breaths of my life. It will be a longfew hours, but as Cas steps out the back door, I realise it might not be that bad after all.
“Hey, Prez,” Ricky chirps like a fucking songbird.
“I didn’t believe Lana when she said you’d invited us over. I swore she misheard, but she assured me we had an invitation from you.”
“It makes Sal happy, so I’m…”
“Happy?”
