Page 24 of Rigid

His brow wrinkled. “What the fuck are grits?”

“Boiled ground corn. Or hominy. Nasty shit, if you ask me. It’s a southern thing.”

“Like oatmeal?”

I shrugged. “Cream of Wheat.”

“You smashed her self-esteem into Cream of Wheat, huh?”

“She said I pummeled it. Same difference, I suppose.”

“Was she serious?”

“Nope. She’s like me, if you can imagine that. She’s dramatic, full of shit, and rarely cracks a smile. People that don’t know her think she’s serious, but she’s laughing at ‘em on the inside.”

“Sounds like you.”

“She’s a good kid. But in three weeks I’m gonna start interviewing her potential dates, and it scares the shit out of me. I’ll have my pistol in my lap when I talk to ‘em, though.”

“I don’t envy you, that’s for sure.”

“Find out what you and Lex are having yet?”

“Nope. Can’t for a while. Too early, the doc said. I think it’s a girl, though.”

I nodded. “Girls are cool. Easy to get attached to ‘em if you ask me.”

“A boy would be cool, too.” After gazing down at the discolored tile for a moment, he looked up. “You saying you wouldn’t love a boy the same way?”

“The way I said that sounded bad, huh?”

He chuckled, tugged against the bill of his cap, and looked at me. “Yeah.”

“You love Lex, right?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Can you think of anyone that could replace her? Like, step into your life, take her place, and satisfy you as much?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question,” he snapped back. “Fuck no.”

“Well, you can take that love and multiply it times a thousand, and that’d be a fucking molecule of the love you feel for your kid. Just wait, you’ll see. Boy or girl don’t matter, you’ll love ‘em, and you’ll get attached to ‘em, too.”

He lifted the bill of his cap. “What you’re saying doesn’t make sense, Brother.”

“Girls need sheltered from fuckers like us. Protected, or whatever. Providing that protection draws us closer to ‘em, but it’s different than love. It’s hard to explain. A parent ends up thriving for that provision. To be the one who they turn to when they need something, or when they’re in pain. Girls always need someone to go to. Someone they can count on.”

“Makes sense,” he said. “Kind of.”

“We act out of love naturally, but I think it’s the interaction that we become attached to. The conversations we have, and seeing their growth. Bottles to baby food. Crawling to walking. Talking. Learning how to read. Middle school to high school. Oh, and diapers to potty training.” I chuckled. “Wait till your kids drops a fuckin’ log in the hallway and doesn’t tell you, and then you step on it. I about broke my fuckin’ neck one night on one of Eddie’s random turds.”

“Not looking forward to that.”

“You say that now, but just wait. A day will come when you’ll wish like hell you had a shitty diaper to change. And, not having it’ll make you sick.”

For me, that day had long since passed.

And, I wished like hell it hadn’t.