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Marigold walked out the door behind them wearing a pale-pink polka-dot dress that exposed small parts of her back. Her hair was half up in a long ponytail with a pink ribbon hanging off it. She looked just like she had when we were in college, only without any evidence of a hangover, and possibly with new scarring on her feet from the many Legos she’d stepped on over the years.
My heart floated like a buoy in my chest. Yeah, picking them up had been a good idea.
The back doors of the car flung open, and both boys practically catapulted themselves inside.
“Dad!” they shouted in surround sound, almost rupturing my eardrums.
I twisted in my seat and held a palm out for high fives. “What’s up, guys? Have a good day with Mom?”
Miles nodded. “Yeah. She made cookies, and we went to get that new Lego set I wanted!”
Dallas bounced in his seat. “Yeah, and then she showed us some of her old painting stuff in the attic.”
I turned back to check on Marigold. She locked the dead bolt, then headed our way, her hair flowing behind her and the tiniest grin on her face. “You guys have an amazing mom.”
Their love for her had always been obvious, but it was worth affirming, especially coming from me. I wasn’t often given the opportunity to really talk her up while in her presence.
They side-eyed each other, wearing secret grins, like they knew something I didn’t.
Before I could question the mischievous glint in their eyes, the passenger-side door opened.
Marigold slid in and let out a sigh, fixing her ponytail. “Phew. Sorry it took me a minute to get out the door.”
I tried not to stare too hard as she flipped down the visor and rubbed a finger under her bottom lip, fixing her lipstick. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she used her pinky to dab at her makeup.
In that first tiny apartment, in those early days, she would tell me that she felt lonely when I wasn’t with her, so I’d pull a stool into the hallway outside the bathroom each morning and watch as she applied her makeup and curled her hair. As she worked, I’d ask her what each product was and what it was for. I could never remember, so I would ask again the next morning. We did that for years. Until I had to be at work before her and life just got busy.
I must have been silent for a beat too long, because beside me, Marigold cleared her throat. I tore my attention from her lips and met her gaze. She was blinking at me, wearing a slight frown, probably wondering why I hadn’t made an attempt to move the car. Or acknowledge her existence.
“Hi.” I smiled at her.
“Hi.” Her responding smile hit me like an arrow to the heart.
I rubbed at the ache in my chest, then reversed out of the driveway.
We rode in silence for several minutes before Dallas cleared his throat.
“Uh, Dad. Why are we all riding with you?”
“Saves on gas. Inflation’s through the roof,” I mumbled, in hopes that he wouldn’t ask any more questions.
Miles grunted and gripped my seat, pulling himself forward. Then he appeared in my rearview mirror. “Mr. Johanson said gas prices are down.”
I groaned. “Mr. Johanson drives a Tesla. He wouldn’t know.”
Marigold snickered next to me, pulling my attention from the road. The caveman side of my brain clicked on at the sight of her in my passenger seat. For the first time in years, the four of us were together in my car. To anyone we passed, we looked like your typical happy play-monopoly-every-Thursday-night family. The thought made my chest expand. And the images of us together but in different circumstances were becoming clearer and more realistic as time went on.
We spent the ride listening to the boys talk about their plans for the week, sleepovers with friends, and movies they wanted to see. That led to questions about our spring festival project, but Marigold and I stuck to our guns, reminding them that it was a secret. They protested, then went on to throw out wild guesses as to what they thought we were creating. The guesses got so outrageous we couldn’t help but throw our heads back in laughter. I was so grateful for that stupid project. So grateful for hippos in tutus and giraffes in top hats. I owed a whole lot to that ridiculous, over-the-top, perfect project. It had brought me closer to Marigold, and in moments like this, I realized that it was bringing all four of us to a place we’d never been.
By the time we got to my parents’ house, my cheeks hurt from smiling. I reveled in it, diving into a memory of Dallas as a baby that had Marigold wiping tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes.
“I did not!”
“Oh yes, you did.” I let out a deep chuckle. “You even—”
“I can’t wait till I’m a dad and I get to make fun of my kids for things they don’t even remember.” He reached for the door handle with a huff.
“Wait, Dal—” Miles grasped his brother by the arm and hauled him closer so he could whisper in his ear.
