Page 101 of Even After This
He leaves the phone face up so I’m looking at the ceiling, but I can hear Alex’s sweet voice singing “Row, row, row your boat” in the background.
When Harlan returns, he grabs the phone and holds up a can of pink Play-Doh.
“Pay-Doh!” Alex grabs the can.
Harlan laughs. “Let me get it open for you, sweetie.”
At once, Alex begins to mash and push the Play-Doh.
“Do you have any of this stuff at your house?” Harlan stage-whispers.
“No, but I’ll get some for the future.”
The future. A future with Alex in my life. A future with Harlan and his daughter in my life. That feels good just thinking about it.
“That would be great, Meredith. Thank you,” he says with a thick tone. He’s thinking about it too.
“Guess!” Alex thrusts her creation at the phone’s camera in a way that allows me to see only a dark pink curtain.
“Oh,” says Harlan in his best game-show-host voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re playing Guess the Animal. Today, our guest, Meredith Harper, is playing for a trip to Colorado.”
I giggle.
Harlan draws back Alex’s arm so I can see her creation. An unrecognizable, four-legged pink thing.
“That’sbeautiful,” I say, dragging out the word.
Alex smiles proudly at me.
I tap my temple as if I’m thinking really hard. I go for the big guns, knowing that my guess might be a complete disaster. “There’s really only one appropriate guess. It looks like Rocky, the Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep.”
“Wocky!” Alex throws her arms up and runs around in circles, holding her creation in the air. “Wocky wocky wocky!”
“You’re unbelievable,” Harlan says to me while we laugh.
Alex stops, wobbles, and looks at her dad. “I want to see Wocky.”
I watch as it occurs to Harlan what I’ve done.
“Sorry,” I say through giggling, knowing full well she will hound him until they go.
“You’re unbelievable,” he says, this time in a humorous but incredulous tone.
The next day, I receive a special delivery. A box of gorgeous pears with the message, “It apPEARS I really like you.”
I pick up the phone and call immediately. When he answers, I say, “I’m going to post this card on Facebook just to out you in the cheesy department.”
“I was going to send cheese”—I can hear the smile in his voice—“but I could only come up with things about strong smells to put on the card. It didn’t seem as romantic.”
“But pears did?”
“They made you call me, didn’t they?”
“And that’s how the last few weeks have gone,” I say to Claire.
Her belly laugh fills the store as she clutches her stomach in mock pain. “Hercules is a dork.”
“He is,” I say with full affection, thinking of the most handsome man I get to call mine. “He is a total dork.”
