Page 50 of Summer Romance
“Of course,” Ethan says. “Come at six. Frannie’s requesting no themes, which, come on. And I’m responsible for the meats. Any requests? For meats or themes?”
“What about a luau?” Iris asks. “You can cook whatever you want and we can wear grass skirts. Mom has tiki torches.”
“I do,” I say, and catch his eye. There’s so much in his eyes that I have to look away.
“Perfect,” he says. “And I have so many grass skirts. Plastic, silver, some made of actual grass. It’s a whole cupboard we could clear out.”
We get back home and the kitchen looks happy. We didn’t make a mess at breakfast, and before we left I cut some black-eyed Susans from my garden and put them in a jelly jar by the sink. The feeling I’m having walking back into my sort-of-clean kitchen makes me think that cutting flowers might be self-care.
Greer puts her arm around my waist. It’s nothing really, my own child giving me half of a hug. But right now it’severything. There was a time when Greer was Velcroed to my side. She cried when I dropped her off at preschool, and I promised that I’d sit outside the whole time. For a while she wanted to sleep in our bed, which was strangely a hard limit for me. I let her sleep on the floor of our room in a sleeping bag until she got over it. What I wouldn’t give to have her fall asleep in my arms and tell her that it’s all going to be okay. That she’ll figure out algebra, that her friends are going to be mean and then they’re not. That she’ll fall in love and it will last, and that I’ll never leave her.
We go for our Sunday canoe adventure and talk about the luau the whole time.
“Are the tiki torches in the garage?” Greer asks over the waves.
“I think. What else should we bring?”
“What’s a luau?” asks Cliffy.
“A Hawaiian party. Flowers and pineapple, I think,” says Iris. “We should have flowers in our hair.”
“Yes!” shouts Cliffy.
“It should really be hibiscus,” I say. “But the gerbera daisies in the yard would be good too. Let’s do pink.”
“Fun-tastic!” says Cliffy.
27
We arrive at Ethan’s and pile out of the car with tiki torches, oatmeal cookies, and Ferris. Cliffy had a brief meltdown when Iris told him he only needed to bring enough daisies for the girls, but I assured him that the men would want them too. We ring the doorbell and he clutches the tote bag in which they are likely wilting. This has been a source of bickering in the car for the half-mile drive. Greer is firmly in the camp that Cliffy is killing them by shoving them in a bag, while I insist that gerbera daisies are a sturdy flower.
Ethan opens the door and I forget which side of that fight I’m on. He’s in a green and white Hawaiian shirt that brings out green specks in the gold of his eyes. But it’s not just that, it’s the way he’s looking at me.
“We brought flowers,” says Cliffy, and I come to.
“Yes, for everyone’s hair,” I say.
“Great,” says Ethan. “Let me take those torches. The grass skirts are out back.” Iris hands them over and we make our way past the living room with its giant donationpile in the center, through the kitchen that we haven’t even started on, to the backyard.
Frannie and Marco are already there with Theo, and Cliffy gives them each a flower for their hair. Ethan squats down so that Cliffy can put his in the exact right spot behind his ear. Ethan looks up at me and I wonder if all men should always wear a large pink flower.
“I found some luau music,” Ethan says to my kids. They follow him over to the bar, where he’s set up an actual record player and a stack of LPs. There really is a lot of stuff to clean out of this house. Cliffy chooses a Don Ho album and Ethan shows him how to work the record player. Ethan gives them each a grass skirt and Cliffy tries some hula moves. Greer’s pulled up what must be a hula-dancing video on her phone and they’re all trying to keep serious faces while he imitates the dance. I want Ethan to keep talking with my kids forever so that I can keep looking his way. He’s a beautiful man, I noticed that the first day, but there’s something now that makes me feel like my heart is racing out of my body to get to him.
When the kids are in the pool, the tiki torches are lit, and the dogs are chasing each other around the yard, Frannie and I face each other in the armchairs. I luxuriate in the feeling of holding Theo while he sleeps. Two days ago, I sat right smack in the middle of what was wrong with my marriage. I soaked in it. Yesterday Ethan started a fire in my body that has yet to be put out. Currently I’m wearing a grass skirt over my shorts, and I have the sense that I have been through the full range of human emotions.
“What’s with you?” asks Frannie.
“It’s been a big couple of days.”
“Sounds like things went well with Pete.”
“Well, yesterday Pete actually took the kids for twenty-four hours in a row.”
“That’s great for all of you,” she says. “Even Pete. Like he can rise to the occasion and you get a break.”
“It seems like they had a great time. I actually went up to Devon with Ethan for the day.”
“You had your first day off ever and you drove all the way up to Devon and back?”
