Even before I walked into the House, I was already feeling better than yesterday. My car had started every time today, without protest. I had made a decision not to wear the wrist brace to bed last night, and I hadnít had to put it on all day. The storm last night had brought spectacular thunder and lightning, but no leaks. And all my other ailments, major and minor and imaginary, were reduced to no more than a smudge on the windowpane of life.
And I didnít stay at the House very long. I picked D.J. up from school, and Tammy immediately packed all the kids up and hauled them down to the shop to see David. So it was a whirlwind of good feeling, and then it was over. But as soon as I walked through the door, Aiden greeted me. ďHi, Uncle Mike.Ē And he jabbered on from there, but of course I didnít understand what he was trying to tell me.
It was easy to understand the next part, though. He went to the phone, picked it up and held it out to show me, saying, ďGrandma sing ĎBaby Beluga.íĒ Apparently Suzanne had been convinced to sing that timeless classic to him as she walked through a market in Hawaii. Three times. Well, I know the two of them have been missing each other terribly, because theyíve both told me about it in their own way. At least he isnít angry with her any more, for going on vacation and not taking him along.
Dakota came bouncing out of his room with the big dinosaur book in his hands. ďUncle Mike, I want to show you something.Ē You canít imagine what a big deal it was for me to hear him say that. It was like music, hearing a sentence like that spoken in his charming little voice. What he wanted to show me, of course, were the pictures of dinosaurs, all of which he could name. That impressed me, too, but not as much.
And then it was all over. They were on their way to the shop, and I was on my way back to work. I havenít seen them every day since Suzanne left, but nearly. I know I need to get back to full work days and all, but Iím going to miss this when she gets home next week. I really am.