Page 64 of Frog

I crossed my arms. “I am. Are you?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you’re the one who has to say to people, I sleep with a nanny.”

He choked on his water. It went down the wrong hole, and I moved quickly, taking the glass and shoving a napkin in his face.

“Don’t barf anymore.”

“Well, what the hell,” he yelled at me. “Jesus Christ, Weber, I don’t give a shit what you do. I just love thinking of you here at home, in our home, just puttering around doing nothing, just being with me every single day. All I want is—”

“A foundation.”

“What?”

“You wanna build. You want us to make a life together.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

I nodded. “The other day, Micah had to draw somethin’ that reminded him of me, and he drew me as a mountain.”

“He did?”

“He did, and it got me thinkin’,” I said as I walked around the bar to stand beside him. “I am a mountain. I don’t have roots like you and your family, but I’m here and I won’t move. You can build on me, count on me, and we’ll use your roots, and I can make a home for all y’all.”

He was nodding and not speaking, and it was easy to see that he couldn’t. I turned him in his chair and took him into my arms, cradling his head in my hand, smoothing my hand over his back, rubbing circles there.

“Oh God, please, Weber, be my home.”

“Thank you for believing I could be. I won’t let you down.”

He hugged me so hard, so tight, and kissed the side of my neck before something occurred to him and he leaned back to look at my face.

“What?”

“Who is you all?”

My smile was huge.

Chapter Seven

THE auditorium was filled with people and our seats were in the middle, so once we were sitting, there was no way to get back up. It was why, before we went in, I was squatting down in front of Pip asking if he had to go to the bathroom.

He was standing, as was his habit, between my thighs, arm around my neck, leaning on me as he considered the question.

“I dunno, maybe.”

“We could go just in case,” I suggested.

He was thinking on it.

“Hey, Weber, Tristan.”

I lifted my head and then my hand in greeting to James Barnes, Tristan’s soccer coach. “Hey, Jim, how’s your daughter?”

“Good,” he said, coming over, “she’s good. Just lost the one tooth. Thank God it was a baby one.”

“That other kid should be out for the year. He’s a menace.”