Me and My Boys

I make a mental note to give Marty an enormous hug the next time I see the big guy. The “sledding hill” he told me about is gorgeous. It’s a series of hills; some of them are pretty steep, while others are a lot less intense looking. The boys let out excited yells as they take in the place, and they dash up the steepest hill there. Camille watches them, her eyes sparkling with happiness, and then laces her gloved fingers through mine. I squeeze her hand gently, and she looks at me with a smile.

“You know the boys are going to flip when they find out, right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I chuckle, and then I kiss the top of her head, which is covered by a toque. The boys come barreling down the hill, each of them on a bright green sled, and they almost knock both of us over. I pull Camille to the side, and we both topple over, Camille landing on top of me as the boys laugh maniacally. She’s looming over me, her hands planted firmly in the snow, and her face is cracked into the biggest smile I’ve seen yet. I reach up and brush a stray hair that has fallen from her toque behind her ear, and the boys giggle. I want to kiss her, but I resist the urge in front of her kids and decide to playfully wrestle her to the ground. She lets out a shriek, and pretty soon Jack and Jimmy have joined in the tussle as well.

They sled for hours, and by the time we’re leaving, the sky is already turning orange. They fall asleep in the back seat of Camille’s car, and I can’t help but smile. They both have messy blonde hair, thick, dark, eyelashes, and impish smiles spread across their sleeping faces. Combine that with their rosy cheeks, and you’ve got the perfect looking set of twins.

“They could be angels when they’re sleeping,” Camille chuckles, glancing at them in the rearview mirror as we pull up to a red light.

“Yeah, but I know better than to think they’re angels when they’re awake,” I laugh.

“Oh really now?” Camille asks, her eyebrows arching up.

“Yeah. I mean, they’re boys, they’re twins, they’re seven years old, and they play hockey. That is the perfect recipe for mischief right there,” I smile.

“You’re really good with them though,” Camille says quietly.

“I like kids,” I shrug. It’s true. I always loved going to hospitals and schools, reading and talking with the kids. Kids were great because they never judged anybody until they got to know them. They were innocent, and loving, and Camille’s boys were no exception.

The boys are tuckered out, and when we return to Camille’s house, they beg us to carry them in. I scoop up Jack as usual, and carry him to his room. As I tuck him in, he looks up at me with wide, innocent eyes. They are the same shade of blue as Camille’s eyes.

“Zach?” he asks quietly.

“What’s up buddy?” I ask, helping him pull off his boots.

“Do you like my mom?” he asks. I smile and laugh quietly.

“Yeah…I like your mom a lot,” I say.

“Like…do you like like her?” he asks. Oh the wonders of being a kid.

“Yes, I like like her. Why?” I ask as he scoots into his bed.

“Because I think she like likes you and me and Jimmy think it would be alright if you wanted to be our dad,” Jack says. I stare at him with wide eyes.

“Jack…I really like your mom…but I’m not sure if I’ll become your dad…not yet anyway. Your mom and I just met, and it takes a while for two people to get to the point where they want to be together forever. Your mom and I don’t want to make any mistakes,” I explain nervously.

“Oh…like Danny’s mom and dad?” he asks.

“Who is Danny?” I ask.

“Danny is on my line with Jimmy…his mom and dad fight a lot, and now he can’t see his dad anymore,” Jack explains sadly.

“Yeah…we don’t want to make a mistake like Danny’s mom and dad,” I sigh, and then tell him to take a nap before dinner.

“You handled that well,” Camille says quietly as I slip out of Jack’s room.

“You heard all that?” I ask nervously.

“Yeah. I’m not surprised that’s what Jack and Jimmy are thinking…I’ll have to talk to them about it,” she says before lacing her fingers through mine and leading me into the kitchen. She starts pulling food out of the refrigerator and cabinets, and sets it on the island countertop. I watch her almost curiously, and then look around for the pots and pans.

“Can you get me the big frying pan in the oven?” she asks, and I nod before opening the oven and hauling out a cast iron skillet from the wrack. She works quickly, humming a little song to herself as she cooks, and I just hand her things as she asks for them. By the time she is done cooking, my stomach is roaring and I hear the boys shifting around sleepily upstairs.

Dinner with Camille and the boys is amazing. Camille’s home cooked stir fry is to die for, and the conversation is even better. The boys ramble on and on about hockey, Camille talks about school, the boys then start on a tangent about how their science teacher is boring, and that Camille is way better, and then Camille chides them for being mean. I watch and eat quietly, laughing at the appropriate moments, nodding in agreement to something one of them says, and just living in the moment.

“Zach, will you come to our game on Saturday?” Jack asks suddenly. I freeze and place my fork on my plate.

“Um…what time is your game?” I ask, shooting Camille a glance. She does one of those “yeah-I-know-just-go-with-it” looks and shoulder shrugs, and I feel my anxiety subside.

“Three,” Jack says matter-of-factly.

“I’ll be out of practice just in time. Where’s the game?” I ask.

“The rink a few minutes from here,” Camille says quickly.

“So you’ll go?” Jack asks. I look at Camille, who gives me a nod of approval, and then I nod.

“I’ll be there,” I say, and they cheer loudly before high fiving.

“Boys, clear the table. Zach, can you help me move something outside?” Camille asks, and I groan inwardly. I stand up, and nod. We pull our coats, hats, and gloves on quickly, and the second I walk out the door my breath is crackling in the cold air. It’s snowing again, but this time it’s a soft, slow snow. The fat, fluffy flakes stick to my coat, and get caught in my eyelashes as I look up at the cloudy night sky. Camille stands next to me, close enough to touch, but we don’t make any physical contact.

“The boys are pretty attached to you already,” she says quietly. I hear something in her voice that is almost fearful.

“I’ve noticed,” I admit, still staring up into the sky.

“I don’t want them to get hurt Zach…I could care less about me…just them,” Camille says, and I look at her. Her face is full of worry, a worry I know is for her sons. I bite my lip, and then rub the back of my neck with my left hand.

“Camille, I don’t plan on doing anything to hurt you or the boys. I swear. I…I know we just met, and I know that we just started dating, but I want you to know that I am really attracted to you, and I love every minute I spend with your sons. You guys make me feel welcome, and I just…I just don’t want you to think I’d do something to jeopardize that,” I explain, locking eyes with her. She stares at me for a long time, and then nods slowly.

“Look Zach…I’ve gotta clarify something quickly, before we get serious…if you want to date me, you have to be prepared to be in it for the long haul. Not just for me, but for my sons. They’ve never had a dad, so if we get into a serious relationship, they’re going to start seeing you as their dad. They’re loving boys Zach, and they want a father figure so badly…I’m not dating you because I think you can provide that, but if you want to be with me, you’re going to have to. This is a package deal Parise. It’s not just me. It’s me and my boys,” Camille says. Every word is heavily laden with seriousness and defensiveness. I look back up at the sky, my mind racing a mile a minute, and I wait a long time before I say anything.

“Camille…my last relationship…she didn’t want family, she didn’t want love…she wanted the glitz and glam of my hockey life…you and your family…you guys have love, and you’re willing to share that with me…your boys are hockey super stars in their own right, trust me, I googled them…you’re gorgeous, smart, and you love your sons more than anything else in this world…so I get that it’s a package deal. I’ve understood that from the beginning. If you’ll take me, I’ll be the best man I can be for you and your sons. I swear,” I say. Camille stares at me once more, and then her eyes fill with tears.

“Zach, you have no idea how much that means to me,” she whispers before flinging her arms around me. I hug her back tightly and kiss the top of her toque covered head. I look up and see the boys watching us from the dining room window, and I shake my head. They smile and then scamper back into the kitchen, and I rest my chin on top of Camille’s head. I’m getting in deep, and fast. I just hope my gut is right for once.