Party of Four

Keeper of the Home - Cole

Staying home with Poppy while Nica and Riley were at work was a trip. For years, my life had been defined by the high-pressure hum of the kitchen. Now, my world was roughly nineteen inches long, and smelled faintly of spit up and lavender.

I sat on the living room floor, leaning against the sofa, watching Poppy try to figure out how her hands worked.

“Yeah, they’re yours, Pops. You’re stuck with ‘em,” I muttered, offering her a finger to grasp. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

It was almost strange being the one left behind. Not in a bad way though. Before Nica, I had enjoyed being by myself. I enjoyed the days that I was off and Riley was at work. Now, I loved every second of this quiet, domestic rhythm. It gave me a lot of time to think, and I found myself opening the journal Nica had gifted me on Father’s Day a lot more often than I anticipated.

My thoughts drifted to the save-the-date card Nica had pinned to the fridge. That photo of us on the bridge looked like a still from some old, moody film.

I knew Riley had gotten involved in the wedding planning. He and mom were always huddled over that binder together. Nica seemed to think it was just mom being mom, and Riley needed a distraction from the constant diaper documentation. He did like order. He needed things to be perfect.

Me? I just wanted to make sure they were happy. If mom wanted to spend her retirement savings on expensive cardstock, and Riley wanted to help coordinate, I would let them. I was more than happy to keep my head down and keep the baby fed.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Riley: Lunch shift’s going great. Nica is killing prep. She’s talking to the girls about dress shopping.

I looked back down at Poppy, smiling, “Your mom’s going to be a bride soon, kiddo.”

The dress shopping thing made me a little nervous. Not because of the money, but because of the reality of it. A dress meant a ceremony. A ceremony meant people staring.

I had tried the wedding planning thing once before, and we never even made it to the altar. I almost didn’t make it out of that ravine. I shook my head and sucked in a deep breath, trying to clear my mind of the dark thoughts that started to surface.

By the time I heard the Sportage pull into the driveway later that afternoon, I’d managed to get a load of laundry done, and Poppy was down for her second nap.

Nica walked in looking exhausted but glowing. She practically collapsed into my arms, her head resting on my chest. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you more,” I kissed the top of her head. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m aching,” she admitted, “but the girls were so excited.”

I looked over her shoulder at Riley. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching us with a look of quiet satisfaction. He didn’t say anything, but I was sure his mind was somewhere ahead of ours.

Nica pushed herself back up to her feet with a groan, “I’m going to shower. I don’t want to smell like a breadstick when I hold Poppy.”

We shared a quick kiss and she disappeared back into the entryway, then reappeared a moment later on the second floor landing. I waited until I saw her disappear from the hallway and heard the click of her door shut. Then I got up and moved to the end of the couch closer to Riley. “I’ve been thinking,” I started, my voice hushed as I motioned him over. He moved to sit in the chair that was angled near the couch. “You know how Nica and her dad usually go to Orlando for to see a hockey game every year for his birthday?”

“Yeah,” Riley nodded.

“And she missed going this year because of the timing of finding out about the pregnancy?”

“Right.”

“I was thinking, for Christmas, what if we make it happen? What if we get them tickets to a game? The Solar Bears are playing in Kingsport the weekend after her dad’s birthday. Kingsport is closer than Orlando, and her dad lives there anyways. I know it wouldn’t be the same, but…”

Riley smiled, nodding, “I think she’d like that. We could go for the weekend, that way Jason can see Poppy, and then him and Nica can have the game, just the two of them.”

I returned his smile, a bubble of excitement filling me.

He stood and stretched, “I’m going to go shower too before Poppy wakes up.”

I watched him disappear, headed for the stairs, and then I picked my journal up from where I’d left it on the coffee table. I flipped through pages of scribbled out paragraphs, hastily written song verses with lines crossed out, and scribbles of sheet music until I got to a fresh page. I ran my hand over the sturdy paper and clicked open my pen.

I started to write. I wasn’t sure if I was writing a song or a letter to Poppy. Or maybe just a list of the ways the air felt different now that the “broken guy” was finally at peace. “The foundation isn’t the house,” I scribbled, ink bleeding slightly into the thick paper. “It’s the people standing there.”

I thought about the trip to Kingsport. It was a solid plan. Nica missed her dad, and as much as she loved what we had here, she needed that connection to her own roots. Plus, it would be nice for Jason to actually get to hold Poppy again before the wedding madness really kicked into gear.

I heard the pipes humming through the walls as Nica and Riley showered in separate bathrooms. This house was alive. It wasn’t just a structure Riley and I had bought to hide away in. It was a sanctuary.

At the bottom of the page, I drew a series of lines. I hummed a soft melody to myself as I filled those lines with more lines and little bubbles. I felt a strange sense of calm. I wasn’t terrified of the future anymore. I was no longer bracing for impact. I was just living.

A sharp, indignant squeak echoed through the baby monitor on the coffee table. Poppy was awake. I clicked my pen shut and tucked the journal under the couch cushion. My daughter was calling, and after eleven years, I finally knew exactly who I was.