by Lily Foster
“Way to try and scare me off.” Simon reaches over then, moves a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of my eyes. “I don’t want to push my way in. I’m taking my cues from you.”
“Do you really want to be here?”
“I do.”
“Then I’m good with that. Let’s just keep it week to week with Ethan, though. I don’t want him getting his hopes up or counting on something—”
“You know me better than that.”
“I wasn’t implying that you’re going to flake out on him. I’m just saying that things happen, life gets in the way sometimes. And let’s face it, this is all new to you.”
“You think once I’m bored—”
“Jesus, no! I just don’t...I just think we need to be careful and take this slow for his sake.”
What I really want to say is that I need to take it slow for my own sake. Just the thought of him being here with us, with me, has me lit up inside, excited for the possibility it presents. I need to pour cold water on those feelings, tamp down the flutters that took over when he did no more than move that wayward strand of hair. Even though he’s telling me it's over with that girl, I don’t want to hope for something that might never be.
Simon’s smile could light up an entire city a moment later when he says, “Look who’s awake.”
Ethan eyeballs Simon, unsure what to make of him. He crawls up into my lap, burrowing under the edge of the blanket in a way that partially hides his face. He mutters back, “Hi,” and then sticks his thumb in his mouth.
“That looks cozy.” Simon reaches over to ruffle Ethan’s hair, brushing the back of his hand against my boob with the motion. I gasp just as he clears his throat. “Ah, I’m getting another muffin.” There’s an apology in his eyes when he asks, “Can I get you anything?”
I squeak out, “I’m good,” as Ethan mumbles, “I want my cup.”
Simon jumps up. “I’m on it, buddy.”
“The cups are next to the sink and the chocolate milk is on the left side of the fridge.”
“Make it warm,” Ethan calls after him, as if he’s speaking to his butler.
“That’s my dad?” Ethan asks when we’re alone.
I snuggle him close. “Yes, my love, that’s your daddy. He wanted to surprise you this morning so he got here super duper early.”
Simon comes out with a dishcloth draped over his forearm and bows as he hands the cup over. “As requested, warm organic chocolate milk. Only the best for you, Ethan.”
Ethan cracks a shy smile. “You soo-prize me.”
“I did?”
“I told Ethan that Daddy woke up earlier than the sun to surprise him this morning.”
The way he studies me and then smiles makes it hard to keep my head on straight. He hands me another muffin. “I did wake up earlier than the sun this morning.” Handing Ethan a small piece broken off from his own, he asks, “So was it a good surprise?”
“Yes.”
Simon nods, a smile stretching from ear to ear as he sinks back into his chair.
He looks hopeful.
After a day spent chasing after Moe, painting rocks, tossing stale bread to the birds and building a fort in Ethan’s room when he was supposed to be taking a nap, the two of them plop into seats at the dinner table looking positively wiped out.
“No nap.” I shoot Lawrence a look. “This could get ugly.”
Simon raises his hand and pledges, “I promise I won’t be a cranky pants.”
This cracks Ethan up. “Daddy a cranky pants!”
And dinner goes by like this, filled with happy chatter, sweetness and some more laughter. It’s good, so good that I have to pinch myself, remind myself that it’s not permanent.
“I got this.” He jumps up to finish clearing the table and shoos me away from the sink.
“All right then, I’m going to put my feet up and watch the sun set.” Joking, I add, “I take my tea with milk, no—”
He cuts in, waving me out the door. “I know exactly how you take your tea. Lawrence?”
“No tea for me. We got some nice homemade peach ice cream in the freezer, though. And Ethan knows how I take my ice cream, dontcha Ethan?”
I picture him nodding with his solemn little face. “Lotsa whip cweam.”
Lawrence joins me outside, resting his hip against the deck railing. “He dragged a chair over to help Simon wash the dishes.”
“Yeah, he’s really taken with him.”
“I like him, Charlotte.”
“Oh, I like him too...That’s not the problem.”
Ethan comes out holding a bowl with a mountain-sized dollop of whipped cream. He reaches up with two hands and gives it to Lawrence. “Here Paw-paw.”
“Thank you, that’s just how I like it.”
Ethan nods proudly, then turns to take the kid-sized bowl Simon has made for him. “Be right back,” Simon says, and returns a moment later with my tea and a mammoth bowl of ice cream for himself. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.”
He full-on moans when the ice cream hits his tongue. “Oh my God, Lawrence, you made this?” Lawrence, mouth full, shakes his head then tips his chin in my direction. “This is incredible. I’ve never tasted ice cream this good.”
“I wish I could take credit for some elaborate secret recipe, but it’s nothing special. Cream, eggs, sugar, vanilla and ripe peaches...That’s it”
“Simple…That’s why it tastes so good. Why aren’t you having any?”
“I make it but I rarely eat it. That stuff will add five pounds to your hips in no time, and I have to make sure I can fit into my dance costumes come September.”
Ethan’s obviously gotten a second wind, taking off after Moe who is now barking up at a cluster of fireflies. Seizing on the opportunity to fling the two of us together, Lawrence makes like a leaf and leaves a moment later. Reaching down to get Ethan’s discarded bowl and stacking it with his own, he says, “I’m gonna head in and do a few things on the computer.”
“You’re still dancing? That’s great.”
“I’m not majoring in it or anything, it’s just a club activity. We put on a few performances a year, no big deal.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
I can’t help but smile. “I love it. We practice on Thursday nights and I look forward to it all week.”
Looking out to where Ethan is jumping up and down attempting to catch a firefly, he says, “Then it is a big deal.” A moment passes before he looks back to me. “And for the record, you look amazing. A little ice cream won’t kill you.” Before I can protest, he’s extending the spoon my way, laden with a mixture of peach ice cream and the whipped cream topping. His eyes are fixed on my mouth. He’s daring me or seducing me—I'm not sure which—but it’s as if some cult leader is inviting me to drink from the fountain. My mouth opens without my permission and my eyes close when the cold rich goodness begins to melt on my tongue. “That’s it,” he coaxes. And when I open my eyes, that same spoon is now in his mouth. He’s licking it clean.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Simon
I’m exhausted by the time I throw my duffel bag onto the passenger side seat and climb into my truck. It’s been a long week, and longer than a week since I’ve been with Ethan and Charlotte. I’ve seen them, but a video chat is no substitute for the real thing.
At six o’clock every night I spend a few minutes listening to him talk, sing, or show me something. It hasn’t been awkward the way I’d feared. No, it’s been good. The calls don’t last long—little kids don’t have much in terms of attention span—but it doesn’t matter. I just want to stay in his thoughts and keep up this connection we’re developing, and it accomplishes that.
Most evenings I only get to spy Charlotte walking around the kitchen in the background, but sometimes she sits down with him and she talks to me. I pray that I’m not reading her wrong, but I believe there’s a chance for us. I felt the air crackling between us that last night on the deck, and I saw the
way she looked at me. I know what I feel, and I’m hoping she feels the same.
I think about the two of them nonstop. My energy is focused when I’m at work, but it’s with a new sense of purpose. I’m not here just trying to prove myself, I’m here to build a future—one that can support my son. I’ve always had a sense of pride in what I do, in how hard I work, but now I have a child, and I want him to be proud of me someday. My perspective has totally changed.
On the ride up I have a lot of time to think. Should I tell Charlotte what I’ve done, that I’ve set the wheels in motion? I’m on borrowed time now. I’ll see them first thing tomorrow morning, but then I’ll be right back on the road after lunch on Sunday.
When I pull up to the cabin, I see two vehicles parked outside. The truck is clearly Lawrence’s, if the hunting permit and the bumper sticker that reads: Team SISU: We Wash our Balls in Ice Water are anything to go by. Lawrence told me he’d leave the key under the mat like he did last time, but before I reach the porch I can see there’s a note tacked to the front door.
Simon,
Come back to the house, there’s a bed set up for you. Sorry about the mix-up.
I’m sure there’s some valid explanation, like Lawrence had unexpected company or something, but the note gives me hope. Maybe this is her doing. She wants me staying there, with her, with them. And I am totally on board—I want to play house with Charlotte more than anything else in the world right now. When I get there, the glow of a light on inside quickens my heartbeat.
She greets me at the door as I step onto the porch. “Hey.”
“Hi.” I’m half-dazed at the site of her. Dressed in pajama shorts and a tank top, she’s exposing a lot more skin than I’m used to seeing, and with her hair pulled up, I feel like a magnet is drawing my lips to her neck. She’s saying something, I think, but it’s not registering.
“Simon?” She waves her hand in front of my face. “I’m so sorry, you must be exhausted. I was worried when I didn’t hear back from you, but I guess you saw the note.”
I think I get off to a stuttering start before managing to say, “Yeah, I saw the note on the door. You called me?” And sure enough, when I look down at my phone, I notice the ringer has been turned off. “I keep it on low when I’m at work, but I thought it was on. I see the missed calls now.”
I’m disappointed when I see the couch has been set up for me, but I’m being an idiot. I don’t expect to be upstairs with them—not yet, anyway.
“Do you want a beer?”
“I’d love one,” I answer, before excusing myself to use the bathroom.
She comes back to the living room with two bottles that look like someone labeled them in their basement.
“You drink? If I’m not mistaken, you’re still underage, missy.”
“Don’t tell Lawrence, but occasionally I do sneak one of his pricey craft brewery beers.”
Upon closer inspection, the labeling looks more like a marketing ploy meant to give the bottle a home-brewed look. And then my attention is on her. Charlotte’s taken a seat on the couch, right atop the blankets I’m going to be curled up in later, and she’s reaching her hand up to offer me a beer, inviting me to sit beside her. I take a seat and then watch as she lifts her bottle to her lips. My eyes don’t stray from that sight as I draw a long pull from my own. Patience, Simon. It's an absolute certainty that I’m going to replay this scene in my head later on tonight and imagine all the things I’d do with her if I could, but right now I have to rein it in.
“This is good.”
“It’s heavy like a stout, right? I usually can’t finish one of these off, but I do like the taste of it.” Charlotte takes another sip, watching as I reach back to pull my sweatshirt over and off. I lean back into the couch and meet her eyes. She glances down into her lap then, clearing her throat. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m definitely tired, but I won’t be able to fall asleep yet.”
Translation: Stay here with me.
“I knew we were having company this weekend but I didn’t want you to feel like you weren’t welcome, or you had to put off visiting Ethan for another week.”
I’m disappointed now, realizing I won’t have the two of them all to myself. “I’m glad you didn’t tell me…Spending another week just skyping would have been tough. Who’s visiting?”
“A good friend of the family and her two teenage sons.” She smiles when she adds, “I’m hoping to do some matchmaking.”
“For Lawrence? It’s a bit soon, no?”
“Lawrence is going to be sixty next year and Barbara’s been divorced for more than a decade. Time waits for no man. I think Janelle would be on board. Scratch that…I know she would be.”
Her expression changes. She’s uneasy, starts picking at the label on her bottle. “What is it?”
“Nothing really. Just be prepared for Barbara. She’s probably going to be watching you like a hawk tomorrow. If she starts asking too many questions, I promise I’ll get her to back off.”
“Huh?”
“Barbara, or Ms. Ryan as I was introduced to her, was the social worker assigned to me when I was admitted at Children’s Hospital. She took an interest in me, I guess you could say.” Charlotte shakes her head, looking both amused and annoyed. “I mean, she was relentless. She was riding my ass from day one, making sure I stayed focused, got through the GED exam, SAT prep, the college application process. I swear, there were days I truly hated the woman.”
My eyes widen in surprise when she mentions the GED. Charlotte was always such a responsible student, always striving for good grades. The thought of her dropping out of high school makes my heart sink.
“She sounds great.”
“Barbara is great, but back then I wasn’t entirely cooperative or on board with the plan. There were times when it felt like her and Janelle were teaming up against me.” Charlotte curls her feet up underneath her, rests her head back against the couch. “But I’m where I am today because of their nagging.” She smiles at me. “Barbara is dying to meet you.”
“Bring it on.”
“Yeah, whatever, you’ve been warned.”
I’ve drained my beer and she’s barely taken two sips of hers. She takes the empty from my hand without a word and gets me another. “So, how was your first week on the job?”
“It was good. I mean, it’s a good feeling knowing I made the right choice in turning down the other position.”
“So this is a judicial internship, right?”
I nod as I take another sip, mentally reminding myself to slow down. “I turned down a summer associate position at a law firm specializing in patent litigation and I was worried I’d regret it. That’s the kind of place where you make connections that last a lifetime.”
“And you’re already sure it was the right move? It’s only been a week.”
“Yeah, but Carl, I mean the Honorable Carl Michaels, is piling it on already. He’s going to expect a lot from me, so it will be a great learning experience. And his clerk, Dan Webber, just graduated from Northwestern. We clicked on the first day.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“They already having me sitting in to observe a trial that’s starting on Monday. He’s an appellate court judge. Can you imagine what that’s going to be like, watching that level of litigation?”
She laughs. “Your enthusiasm makes law sound fascinating.”
I poke her in the side, unable to resist. “Law is fascinating. It’s thought-provoking, absorbing, captivating. Law is sexy, dammit.”
“Whatever you say.”
She’s giggling now, and the sound is so freaking adorable. I want to hug her, pull her in close to me. My eyes drift down over her body, see the outline of her breasts straining against the thin fabric of her top. I don’t know if it’s fatigue or lust that makes me lose my sanity, but I’m having an out-of-body experience, watching from above as I reach across to drag my thumb through the condensation gathered on the neck of her bott
le and then rub it across her bottom lip.
She sucks in a slow breath and I pull back. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. But chancing a look back at her, I’m thinking maybe she isn’t sorry. Her body is perched forward now and her eyes are closed. My body is primed and ready, embarrassingly so, but I know this isn’t the way. “Long drive...I guess I should get some sleep.”
She sighs, opening her eyes. “Yeah, get some rest. Ethan’s going to pounce on you the minute he wakes up.”
“I can’t wait. Goodnight, Charlotte.”
She smiles, pausing at the bottom of the staircase. “Goodnight, Simon.”
Charlotte keeps glancing over her shoulder, checking for signs that I’m irked. Normally I wouldn’t be tolerating the twenty questions routine from a veritable stranger, but this woman has done so much for my Charlotte, and in turn for Ethan. In my book, I owe her big time.
“So your mother, she’s in North Carolina?”
“South Carolina.”
“What was her reaction to the big news?”
“I haven’t told her yet, ma’am. I was hoping Ethan could do a video chat with me when I tell her this weekend. The last time I was up here, well, there was a lot going on.”
“First off, call me Barbara.”
“Okay, Barbara.”
“How do you think she’ll react?”
“I can’t be sure, but I’m guessing she’ll see things in a positive light.”
“I’d imagine finding out she has a three-year-old grandchild will come as quite a shock. Are you concerned about that?”
We blew past question number twenty a long time ago. Babs is starting to wear on me but I do my best to stay neutral. “My mother raised three boys on her own, so she’s pretty tough. I think she’ll be able to handle the shock.” I look over to where Ethan is playing with the older boys and smile. “I did.”
“So you believe she’ll react well because you have.”
“I'm losing count. You’ve used reframing on me, thrown a little DBT in there with the distress tolerance thing, and now Roger’s restatement technique. You social workers are skilled at getting people to spill their guts. Lawyers and cops should get the same kind of training.”
