VICTORIOUS (A Quantum Novel)(33)

“He’s in movies that Mom says I’m not old enough to see.”

“That’s right.”

“So he’s like SpongeBob, only for adults, right?”

Natalie fights a losing battle with laughter. “Exactly,” she says, glancing at me, the laughter making her eyes dance with joy. “Because I’m married to him now, there’s a lot of interest in both of us that would be a huge distraction for all my students.”

“What’s a distriction?”

“A distraction is when things happen that take our attention off our schoolwork.”

“Like video games?”

“That’s a great example.”

Watching her patience with the little boy, I can’t wait to see her with our kids. She’s going to be an amazing mother.

“I’m afraid of coming back and then having to leave again when the distractions prove to be too much. I’d never want to put you guys through that, so I’ve decided not to come back, as much as I’d love to. But, I’m going to give you all my address so we can write to each other, and I’ll Skype with you and your mom and Maddie. Okay?”

“I guess,” he says, though he’s clearly crushed. Who could blame him? I felt the same way when Natalie left me, and that was only for a day.

“I’m so sorry about all this, buddy.”

“I know.”

“Hey, Logan,” I say, anxious to end this conversation for Nat’s sake, “do you and Maddie want to go play in the snow?”

His eyes light up as his sister lets out a squeal. “Can we, Mom?”

“You don’t want to do that,” Aileen says.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked. I’d love to take them to the park, if it’s all right with you.”

“Sure, they’d love that. They’ve been asking to go out all morning, and I just…” Her eyes fill. “I couldn’t.”

“No problem. I’ve gotcha covered. Why don’t you come, too, Nat, and we’ll let Aileen get some sleep?”

“I don’t have boots.”

“What size are you?” Aileen asks.

“Seven.”

“I’m a seven and a half. Use mine.”

“Okay, then, I’m in!”

While I help get the kids bundled up, Natalie walks Aileen to her bedroom and tucks her in for a nap. She comes out of Aileen’s room with tears in her eyes and the boots in hand. “Hard to see her this way,” she whispers.

“I know.” I kiss her forehead and let her pass me in the hallway. The kids’ rooms are cluttered with toys, the beds are unmade, and dirty clothes are on the floor. While the kids pull on their snow pants, I withdraw my phone from my pocket and fire off a text to Addie.

We’re at Aileen’s, and she needs some help. Can you please check into an agency here that does nurses/nannies/housekeepers? Get one of each if you would.

Got it. On it.

You truly are the best.

I know!

I love her cheeky reply, and I love her, too. I’d be lost without her. Nothing I ever ask her to do is too much for her, and she’s endlessly efficient and organized. I make it well worth her time and effort, but the truth is I’d pay her twice as much to keep her.

I stash my phone and go to help Natalie with the kids. On the way out the door, Logan produces a plastic sled from the front closet. We clomp down the stairs in a noisy group, Natalie and I with our ski masks covering our faces. The kids think they’re hilarious, which I suppose is better than scary.

On the sidewalk, I load the kids onto the sled and pull them behind me down the snow-covered sidewalk, extending my free arm to my wife. We’ve left Fluff sleeping in a ball on Aileen’s sofa. At the park, we spend more than an hour making a snowman, having a snowball fight and making snow angels. When the kids begin showing signs of tiring, we load them back up and set out for home, stopping on the way for pizza and hot chocolate.

The startled restaurant staff immediately recognize us, but I ask them not to make a thing of it in front of the kids. Thankfully, they respect my wishes. I’ll ask Addie to send them a signed photo to show my appreciation.

We return to the apartment with two tired, well-fed kids who had a great time.

“Thanks for this,” Natalie says as we follow them up the stairs.

“It was fun.” And it was. Life’s simple pleasures tend to get lost in the sea of celebrity madness that surrounds me. I like that Natalie and her friends have helped to remind me of what’s really important.