Page 24 of As the Years Pass

We spend close to two hours at the park, and I get the kids ice cream from the truck that drove by. When we get back to the apartment, they’re starving and complaining that they want lunch—spaghetti. And of course, I have no sauce.

“We have to go back out,” I say.

“Ugh, Daddy,” Judy whines.

“I’m sorry, but I need sauce.”

“Can we go to the store down the street? The one with the pink ice cream?”

“You just had ice cream,” I say, trying to keep the exhaustion out of my voice.

She bats her lashes at me. “Please.”

“Fine, but you’re not eating it until later.”

“Yay! More ice cream!” she shouts, jumping up and down.

“Go make sure Ian has his shoes on, please.”

A few minutes later, they’re at the door and ready to go. Ian has his favorite car in his hand, while Judy has her backpack, sunglasses, and sun hat.

My stomach gets warm and fuzzy as we get closer to the bar. The convenient store is just a block down and up from here, and I’ve walked to it with the kids many times. I never thought much of the bar before, but now I’ll never be able to walk by again without thinking of him. I spot a car in the back parking lot. Two, actually. Maybe Emmet’s and the bartender’s? Or Emmet’s friend? Does he have friends here? How long has he lived here? He said he bought the place recently, and he did mention he bought it without looking at it which is ridiculous, so I guess that means he must have just moved.

I try not to stare at the building as we walk by it. Ian’s hand is firmly in mine while Judy skips ahead. She knows the way by now, and knows to stay close to me.

When we get to the store, I let them each pick out a snack. Though she said she wanted ice cream, she chooses Sour Patch Kids instead, while Ian goes for the M&M’s. He loves chocolate, this kid. I grab a can of sauce and a half gallon of milk, since I’m almost out. I pay, Judy puts her and her brother’s snacks in her backpack, and then we’re on our way back home.

I don’t notice the door to the bar opening until I nearly bump into the person walking out of it.

“Oh shi—“ Emmet snaps his mouth shut when his gaze goes to the kids.

“That’s a bad word,” Judy says sharply.

“Uh, yeah. Well, it would have been, but I didn’t actually say it,” Emmet says carefully, looking from Judy back to me. She puts her hands on her hips.

I chuckle. “Hi, Emmet.”

He grins, giving me a wave.

Judy moves to my side, grabbing my hand the best she can even though I’m holding a bag.

“Are you daddy’s friend?” she asks.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You think so?” Judy questions.

“We’re friends,” I say. “We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“He should come over,” she says firmly. “You never have friends over. Mommy has lots of friends, but you don’t have any.”

“I’m sure he’s busy, sweetheart,” I say quickly, trying not to be embarrassed by my lack of friends.

“Oh, yeah. I’m working. Sorry, kiddo,” Emmet says.

She shrugs, then tugs on my hand. “I’m hungry.”

“Talk later?” I say as I let both kids drag me away.