Waving Not Drowning

There it was. Lying in the corner of the silver dish on the side table next to the couch. Right next to the ridiculously expensive dog comb she convinced Todd to buy that neither of them ever use. No wonder she couldn't find it. Why search the place they sit next to every day for hours on end as they stare straight ahead like zombies hypnotized by the 40 inch flatscreen. They don't even share the couch like they used to. Claire curls up in the lazy boy nestled under the green and red cottage throw which always smells faintly of woodsmoke and Off while Todd splays his limbs out like an Irish wolfhound in repose, engulfing the seven foot long sectional and ottoman. They bought that piece on layaway with her bridal shower money and took four years to pay it off because every time they went by the store to put money down they walked out with some other random appliance or side table or hand dyed silk and wool mix Persian rug they couldn't afford, didn't need but fel...

Thirty two years old and he's burying his dad. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Charlie's three months today and he will never know his grandfather, the one man Evan looked to for guidance. On everything. From how to tie his shoes, what clothes to wear, how to change the oil, rotate tires, shoot a puck, assemble a bouquet, memorize a sonnet, and to note the difference between single malt and a blend. Some say there's a balance; with every birth, a death, but Evan feels ripped off. He finally feels like he's growing up, becoming his own man and suddenly he's orphaned. A father himself. He never envisioned life with a woman, a house, a dog and a kid. Well, ok, there's no house or dog (yet) but he's got a good rental, a reliable beater, and the most incredible woman in Jenna. Talk about punching above his weight. How he landed her he'll never figure out. She met Dad and he fell in love with her before Evan did. They spent ten minutes discussing the l...