Daniel, you'll recall, phoned to tell me he'd gotten married and his new wife Deiondra was with child. I got off the phone before my laughter betrayed me.
It occurred to me that I hadn't thought to find out how far along in her pregnancy Deiondra was. I inquired and learned that, yes, she was seven and a half months along. I shouldn't worry, Daniel assured me, as Deiondra was feeling great, and the pregnancy was progressing very smoothly.
Um, okay, really not my concern.
Jack had something which looked like a chigger bite in his groin which swelled up to the size of a cherry within a couple of days. I took him to the doctor, who guessed it was another infected spider bite and prescribed antibiotics. The thing came to a head and oozed yellow pus down his thigh as Jack stood naked on his tiptoes in the kitchen, hands to his sides, palms up, eyes wide, paralyzed and with a look of sheer disgust on his face.
Because it was a pustule.
Daniel and Deiondra and I spoke on the phone about the boys' upcoming visit. They would be spending two weeks with their dad in his new house, with his new wife and her burgeoning belly. Deiondra asked a ton of questions. She has no experience with children. Mine are going to eat you for breakfast, I thought. Good, though, that she was asking; even if it was for show, I felt better sending the boys knowing she was taking notes and seemed concerned about what might happen to her should she fuck things up.
Miles and I went to the Orthopedic office to get his cast removed. He'd been in it for six weeks and all I can say is thank dog for Gore-Tex because if he'd not been able to swim all summer I'm not sure what we'd have done. He freaked out at the sight of his pale, skinny forearm and felt better when the wrist brace was slid over it and fastened with velcro on the side.
Miles had a cough and an earache. I took him to the urgent care clinic because it was Saturday. He got a new inhaler and ear drops. Of course this would happen on their last day in town. Of course now they will be fine when they are with Daniel. We went to their favorite sandwich place to eat and I let them get second helpings of ice cream.
As I packed their bag earlier in the evening I'd laid out clothes for a week for each of them, along with books and a few games they'd requested. I'd washed the baby blankets my mother had knitted when they were born and used extra softener in the rinse. I'd printed out the list of everything I'd packed. I'd printed the CD label for the vacation mix I'd made them.
I turned out the lights and slid between them on the futon in the living room.
I contemplated the two weeks until I would see them: Time to work as many hours a day as I could, eat whatever I wanted, clean out their closet without any protests. Go to movies. Dinner. And sex. I could have as much sex as I decided to have. Suddenly the world seemed huge and even though I wanted to bite it, the fact that the possibilities were so great scared me a little.
We had never been apart for more than six days. In a few hours they would board an airplane with their father and fly--for the first time that either of them would remember--away from me for two weeks.
I snuggled with each in turn. I whispered that I would miss them and that I loved them very much. I fell asleep with my babies curled into my body, heads nestled in the crooks of my arms.
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