At eleven last night the doorbell rang. I was already asleep, curled up on the couch under Lochlan's arm while he read a book, phone on the table waiting for the call that never came.
If you live in a city and the doorbell rings late at night, you panic. It doesn't happen. Home invasion? Emergency? Bad news? All the boys either have a key for the back door or call first and I meet them at the door. I never hear that bell. I'm sure it still has Cole's fingerprint on it and possibly Jake's too.
Lochlan told me to stay put (FAT CHANCE) and he went to check. He looked through the window and let out a huge laugh and swore and then threw the door open and walked away.
There were my brown eyes and the smile I like to stick my fingers in the sides of because I hardly ever see it. Lurch goes the heart and everything magically stops hurting.
BEN!
Woke up the kids, who came booking down the front stairs sleepily and they got hugs and Ben said tomorrow there would be presents and he took them back to bed and tucked them in because love is thicker than blood and he said he was sorry he missed bedtime. They quieted instantly, Lochlan packed up his things and slipped out, to his own house down the street and within ten minutes it was just Ben and I, standing in the front hall smiling at each other.
You big jerk. Why didn't you call?
I was busy working as hard as I could so I could come home, bee. Hell, I married a Canadian girl, I have to be here for Canada Day.
He said if you didn't call-
I haven't had that many pucks to the head. I called him first and let him know I was on the way. Everything's fine.
Everything is NOT fin-
He grabbed my head in his hands and looked right into my eyes, crinkling his up in a further smile. Most people I know smile and their eyes get warm but don't change shape, Ben's go from big black circles to mirthful half-moons. It's amazing. His whole face is handsomely comical when he wants it to be.
It's okay, bumblebee. I'm home.
I nodded and he let go and pulled me into his arms, squeezing hard. Holding on.
We'll figure this out. We've been through worse, bee.
Right, so now we should catch a break.
I love what I do. Besides, I have to put food on the table.
So be a farmer.
If I'm plowing who will sing to you?
And based on the fact that we both found that too funny to continue, rest assured that we went to bed where I inhaled enough airplane-fuel-smell to leave me downright queasy today and we slept hard, waking up together in a lazy tangle that we were reluctant to sort out.
On that note, Happy Canada Day.
