With a running leap, Dominic hurled himself at the man entering the backyard.
“Hey, who’s this?” Isaac struggled to catch both the little boy and his own balance. Dominic giggled gleefully.
“Daddy, it’s me! Dominic. Here, I axident’ly knocked off your glasses, but I catched them. I’ll put ’em back on so you can see me.” Sticky fingers clutching the lenses rather than the frame, Dominic shoved the glasses hard onto Isaac’s face. “There. Is that better? Can you see me now?”
“Maybe it’s time to switch to contacts, man. Might even give you half a chance against me on the tennis court.” Max slapped Isaac lightly on the back as he brushed past him and strode into the yard.
Isaac rolled his eyes at his best friend’s retreating back and adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Yes, Tiger, it’s better now. Thank you.” Isaac whooshed his son into the air and studied him. “I can see you, and I can see that you’re already dressed. It’s only eight o’clock. What’s the hurry? Is it a special day or something?” He swung Dominic back down toward him and held him close as he walked toward Max and the two women standing in the middle of the yard.
“Daddy! Did you forget? It’s my birthday today and I’m having a big party and me, you, and Max are gonna make an obstacle course so let’s get to it!” Dominic wriggled loose and jumped down to the ground. “C’mon!”
Isaac laughed. “Of course I remember. I need some time to change and talk party stuff with Mommy. Can you play in your sandbox for a while? I won’t take long, I promise.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched Dominic huff out a breath of air and cross his arms tightly over his chest, then pucker the muscles of his face together in the expression that Isaac always joked was his look of either deep concentration or serious constipation.
“Maybe. Can I use the hose?”
“It’s your birthday, right?” Dominic nodded vigorously. Isaac noted that Dominic’s arms remained folded across his chest. Clearly, his son meant business. Isaac couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Well, then of course we’ll let you use the hose.”
“Yes!” Dominic loosened his arms and pumped a fist in victory. Isaac watched him run off. An almost-overwhelming feeling of love swelled inside of him, beginning in his chest and radiating up to his head and down to his toes.
“Hey, Tiger?” He waited until Dominic turned in his direction. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Daddy. I’m five today!” He raised a hand, all five fingers outstretched, into the air and in one graceful motion swooped down to pick up the hose.
As Isaac watched Dominic drag it to the sandbox, he threw an arm around his wife and pulled her close. “Ready for today, Reese?” He kissed the top of her head.
Reese drew back slightly, but Isaac noted that she didn’t remove her arms from around his waist. He used the opportunity to pull her against him again. Not resisting his pull, Reese only half-heartedly complained, “Isaac. You’re still sweaty from tennis.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I still love you.”
Max’s voice abruptly reminded Isaac that he, Reese, and Dominic weren’t the only ones in the yard. “All right, Gretchen, my dear wife, time to test your love for me.”
“Don’t touch me, Max.”
“Ouch. Hurtful.”
Isaac watched Gretchen roll her eyes. He wondered about that. Such an interaction and gesture could be taken as playful, but he didn’t quite get that vibe just now. With her wrinkled nose and her swift step backward, Gretchen seemed truly disgusted. Sure, a sweaty white t-shirt stuck Saran Wrap style to a man probably wasn’t drop-dead sexy, and Max’s smell of victory was more pungent than fragrant. However, Isaac looked and smelled the same, other than the fact that his was the smell of defeat, and Reese wasn’t repulsed. Perhaps it wasn’t Gretchen’s reaction that was odd; it seemed quite fitting. Maybe it was Reese whose reaction was strange.
That same sensation of love he’d felt for Dominic moments before surged through him again. Reese was a remarkable woman. He’d known that from the moment he laid big, goofy eyes on her just over ten years ago. He had just graduated from college and was working where he still worked to this day, the Cascades Conifers, a minor league triple-A baseball team not quite creatively named after evergreen trees native to the Cascade Mountains, which themselves were, like him, native to Oregon. Isaac had worked for the team throughout his university years, actually. He had been hired as their mascot and spent much of his summers either in Portland State University classrooms or inside a tree costume on a baseball field in suburban Portland. During his senior year, he had interned with the organization as part of his degree in business administration. His successful internship segued into a career with the team—in the office rather than in a costume. For a few years, every now and then, he still played the role of mascot, and the night he met Reese, he was prancing around the stadium as an uprooted evergreen tree.
He encountered her during one of the between-inning activities designed for fan participation. As the mascot, he was supposed to stir up excitement for these games by acting wacky and messing with the contestants. He was romping around as the activity crew readied two fans for a spirited game of tug-o-war. His plan was to run back and forth between the two, picking up the length of rope behind each of them and pretending to pull on it but acting like it was too hard. When the game began, he careened over and then came to a screeching halt. Two women faced off, one of whom was the most naturally beautiful woman he had ever had the privilege to blatantly stare at from the safety of a tree’s interior. The way she smiled and laughed as she tugged on the rope nearly brought him to his knees. The game was short-lived, the beautiful woman won, and the crowd cheered. Had he not been hidden in a gigantic costume, he never would have had the guts to do what he did. He rushed over, grabbed her hand and raised it up in victory, like a referee does to a winning boxer, before looping her arm in the crook of his branch and skipping around, presenting her to the crowd, which cheered more loudly than before. As he returned the woman to her friend, he asked her if she would meet him at the gate after the game. She shrugged, cocked her head, smiled broadly, and said, “Maybe.”
The remainder of the game had moved so slowly that Isaac didn’t think he could stand it. He was so nervous, both that she wouldn’t show up and that she would, that he very nearly threw up all over the inside of the costume. Thankfully he hadn’t, which made it easier for him to clean up and make himself look—hopefully—halfway decent. When he approached the gate and saw her waiting for him, his heart soared.
Today, on the morning of their son’s fifth birthday, Isaac joyfully hugged Reese, the victorious tug-o-war contestant who was willing to meet him and give him a chance. He kissed her head again, then said reluctantly, “Well, I suppose I’d better go in and get cleaned up. Max, go home and do the same, and do it quickly. We’ve got a party to prepare.”
“Yes, Max. Go shower,” Gretchen grumped. “I’ll stay and give Reese a hand in the kitchen. Oh, and don’t wake up Elise. She finally fell asleep. I can’t believe she woke us up at four.” She paused; Isaac mused that Gretchen’s silence contained as much impatient irritation as her voice. “God, Max, don’t look so shocked.” She wiggled a receiver in the air. “I didn’t leave her unsupervised. I’m listening for her. This thing’s got a great range, and we’re just next door.” Without waiting for a response, she turned to Reese and said, “Come on. We’ve got Jigglers to cut.”
Isaac studied
