Three Little Words

He gave me a funny look.

“Never mind. Dumb joke.” But it wasn’t a joke. It was a reminder not to judge other people by my standards. Hadn’t I said the same thing to Christy?

Practice what you preach, dude.

Easy for you to say, I told myself.

I chuckled again. Now I was having arguments with my better self instead of just my penis. Things were getting crowded in my head.

“Are you okay?” Wren asked.

“He’s fine,” Christy said. “He’s just talking to himself. He does that.”

Was I that easy for her to read? Evidently so.

“Oh?” Trip said. “What about?”

“Too soon to tell,” Christy said with a grin. “He’ll let us know when he figures it out.”

I smiled inscrutably at him and then gave her a wink.

“You two…,” Wren said affectionately.

Later that day we packed our things and prepared to leave. Christy had her usual two large suitcases and one small one, but this time the large ones were mostly full of gifts, so I didn’t tease her.

Trip and I loaded our cars at the same time. He was used to his Impala and its massive trunk, so he had trouble getting all the presents for his little brothers into the Rabbit. The boxes were like parts of a building—I took one look at them and simply knew where they needed to go. After several tries Trip pulled out the largest ones in frustration. I pitched in and helped, and we loaded everything in about ten minutes.

“Thanks,” he said when we finally closed the hatchback. “I was ready to leave the train set.”

“It needed to go in first.”

“Well, yeah. It’s obvious now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Nah, I’m sorry. I just… don’t like being reminded that you’re so much better at some things.”

“That’s why we’re a team. We complement each other.”

“Remind me again why you need me?”

“Because I have no idea how to make enough money to pay cash for a new car.”

“Yeah. Well. I do.”

“Exactly.”

The girls came out of the house with the last of our things. Wren asked if we were ready to lock up and leave, and we gave her two thumbs-up. Then we said our goodbyes, wished each other Merry Christmas, and climbed into the cars.

I followed Trip onto the interstate, but he mashed the accelerator and sped away. He was having fun with his zippy new car, even loaded as it was with luggage and presents. My poor old Cruiser probably could’ve kept up for a while, but I decided to let him win without a fight.

Christy and I listened to the radio and chatted about everyday things during the three-hour drive to my parents’ house in Sandy Springs. Then we entered the outskirts of suburban Atlanta, and she gazed out the window with interest.

“This is where you grew up?”

“Just for high school,” I said. “We moved here in ’77, from Savannah.”

“Oh, that’s right. Your dad flew for a charter airline, right?”

“Yep.”

“We moved every few years too.” She craned her neck and soaked up details. “I think that’s why I don’t want to be a Navy wife,” she said after a minute. “I want to live someplace and put down roots. I want a big house with a swimming pool and a studio and pets and a garden and the same friends year after year. We never had any of that when I was growing up.”

“A house like that costs a lot of money,” I said with a sidelong glance.

“I know,” she sighed. “Do kindergarten teachers get paid much?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then you’ll have to make all the money,” she said absently. It was a completely unguarded comment, so I let it go. Besides, she wasn’t really the money-grubbing type. She liked nice things, but at least some part of her realized they didn’t grow on trees.

“That’s what I always thought I’d do anyway,” she added, “support my husband. Still… it’d be nice to have a career of my own.” She leaned her head against the window and watched the world go by.

“You can do both,” I said.

She shrugged.

“Besides, marriage is a partnership.”

“Yeah.”

“Partners support each other. Nothing says the husband has to work and the wife has to stay at home with the kids. Maybe you’ll make more money, and I’ll stay home with the kids.”

“I doubt it.” She sighed again and fell silent.

“What made you think about that?” I said at last.

“Thinking about what to do after I graduate.”

“You can get an MFA.”

“I probably will, but then what? Kindergarten?” She sighed again. “I always thought being a grown-up would be easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile is easy,” I chuckled. “If it were, everyone would do it.”

“I know, but still…”

I pulled into my parents’ driveway and parked next to Erin’s car. Then I turned off the engine and unbuckled my seatbelt.

“Come here,” I said to Christy, who threw off her own seatbelt and slid across to me. I put an arm around her and urged her to climb into my lap, which she did.

“That’s one thing I like about being my size,” she said. “I fit in your lap pretty much anywhere.”

“Mmm hmm.” I put my arms around her. Something told me she needed my presence more than words of assurance, so I held her in silence.