Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“We won’t be there for Kola either. He’s all the way across the country,” I said, stepping forward into his space and leaning against his broad, muscular back. “It’s hard to think of them being where we can’t get to them. Not so bad with Hannah, she’s just across town, but our boy is across the country.” It was hard for me; it had to be killing Sam. He had always been his kids’ champion. Letting go had to be eating him up.
“This is going to get easier,” I promised him, and he spun around and grabbed me. “We love them, they love us. That’s the glue. We’re gonna be okay.”
“And if they get hurt?”
“They’re both smart,” I reminded him. “And we both filled them up with the best parts of us. We have to have faith.”
“It’s hard,” he said into my hair.
“It is, but it’s going to get better.”
We had leftover lasagna and lots of wine and not much salad for dinner, and telling stories about our kids was fun. Laughing always helped, and we had all the same memories because we’d been parenting together for nearly twenty years. Nothing like being in it with your best friend.
When Hannah got home later, she brought us peach cobbler from the fundraiser, which we both agreed was the perfect dessert.
“I was never going to date Erik,” she explained to us. “It’s just, George gets so high-handed sometimes, I have to fight with him on general principles.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I mean, you guys know, nothing is going to distract me right now. I have a plan.”
Of course she did; that was Hannah. It was comforting.
Later that night, we each got a text from Kola telling us that California was lovely. He had already made some new friends. And that was like him, to make sure we didn’t worry. That too was comforting.
We were going to be all right.
That’s it, all. Have a great rest of August, and I’ll see you in September. For all my fellow parents, hang in there. We’ll get through this, and Thanksgiving is right around the corner. Kind of.
SEPTEMBER 2022
Hello, all, and welcome to He Said, he said, September 2022.
So…it’s no secret that I’ve been slightly sad since my kids left for college. And yes, Hannah is only across town, but still, not under my roof. When I set the alarm at night, my kids aren’t there. The good news is, everyone will be home for Thanksgiving, even Jake, because he had no desire to go to Tahiti for the holiday with the rest of his family. He wants to be home. Jake, apparently, is very much over California.
“It was eighty-one here the other day,” he was griping at me on Zoom, walking me through the lovely house that Kola had already shown me five times, Harper two, and Jake, now one. “And it never rains. I miss the rain.”
“Are you making any new friends?” I asked, trying to get him onto a happier topic.
“No.”
“No? Because when you first got there, Kola said you had.”
“He said he did,” he muttered. “But not me.”
“Not you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Jacob,” I soothed him. “Are you perhaps in a bad mood today?”
“I’m in a great mood,” he said defensively, and I saw Harper roll his eyes in the background.
“I think your buddy there has something to say,” I stated.
“I don’t care,” Jake grumbled. “He’s an ass—jerk, Mr. Harcourt. And so is your son.”
“Really,” I said, like that was terrible.
“I know, they keep wanting me to do stuff. I don’t wanna do stuff.”
“Got it,” I said as he carried the laptop outside so I could see the trees. It was a very small backyard, but lovely nonetheless.
A week later, I got a Zoom notification—I got them so much that I’d started keeping my laptop in the kitchen—and found myself looking at Harper. I would have preferred just talking to them on my phone, but Kola had asked, as the group spokesman, if I could please use my laptop so he could see as much of me and the house as possible. Jake and Harper were the same. They might have all been a bit homesick. Jake possibly a bit more than the other two.
“Good afternoon,” I greeted Harper.
“No time for pleasantries, Mr. Harcourt. We have a Jake situation.”
“He’s being a real ass, Pa,” I heard Kola chime in before I saw him, at the edge of the screen, doing something in the kitchen.
Harper was suddenly leaning close to look at me. “Jake has been a royal prick, Mr. Harcourt. To, like, everyone. With his blond hair and the hipster ponytail, he looks like he could live here, but he has a very Chicago aesthetic.”
“Which is what?”
“I don’t know—kinda ‘screw you’ with a little bit of ‘you think that’s pizza’—thrown in. He also yelled at one of our new friends about putting ketchup on a hot dog the other day, completely forgetting where he was.”