by Noelle Adams
“But?”
“I just don’t know what Josh would have wanted.”
Adam just sat in silence, looking at her. He was still wearing a business suit, since he’d come over to her place right after work so they finalize the paperwork for Byte Tech.
Something about his steady, dark gaze made her uncomfortable.
She knew him better than she had a month ago at Josh’s funeral. She knew he’d loved his cousin. She knew he wasn’t trying to hurt or take advantage of her. She knew he was trying to help.
But he still seemed to have so many layers—layers that Josh had never had. There was so much about Adam she still didn’t know.
“Did he ever say anything to you?” Zoe asked, suddenly convinced Adam was holding something back.
His eyes didn’t waver, but she saw him swallow.
“Adam, did he say something to you about what he wanted?”
“We did have one conversation.”
“When?”
“A couple of weeks before he died.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been torn up over this decision, and the whole time you knew what he wanted?”
“Would you have believed me if I’d told you this a month ago?”
All of Zoe’s brewing angst collapsed into exhaustion. She hunched forward and rubbed her face. “No. Probably not. I’m sorry. So what did he say?”
“He didn’t give me any specifics. He just asked me to take care of things—make sure the company didn’t fall apart.” Adam met her eyes again. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“I know you are.” She didn’t always like or understand Adam, but she realized he was genuinely trying to do what was best. “Thank you.”
They sat for a minute at the table, neither talking. The only sounds in the room were Logan’s little grunts and babbles as he played.
Finally, Zoe asked, “So you think this is the best option?”
“I do.”
She nodded, resolved to do what everyone told her was best. If it meant that she would have to work more closely with Adam than she’d ever intended, then she would deal with it. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Without comment, Adam removed the cover sheet and slid a set of documents over to her. They’d all been prepared, little sticky tabs on the places she needed to sign.
She started to read through the documents, as carefully as she could, relieved that Adam didn’t seem to be watching her.
She was on the third page when Adam said, surprise evident in his voice, “Look at Logan.”
Zoe whirled around toward the living area. Logan was using his tabletop for support and pushing himself up on his feet, his little knees bent. As they watched, he lost his balance and landed with a grunt on his diapered bottom.
With a smile, Zoe said, “Yeah. He likes to try. Sometimes, he can hold himself up for a few seconds, but he can't really stand by himself yet.”
“But he’s not even crawling yet.”
She chuckled, irrationally pleased that Adam was so impressed by her seven-month-old son. “He scoots himself around sometimes. But, no, he doesn’t really crawl. He doesn’t want to bother with something as mundane as crawling. He wants to jump right into walking.”
Logan was pushing himself up again and managed to teeter on his feet for a few seconds before he sat down hard.
This time, he looked over at Zoe with an outraged expression and babbled out his frustration.
“I didn’t do it to you,” she told him, “You just have to try even harder.”
Logan babbled a little more. Then he tried to push himself up again.
Adam appeared mesmerized by this activity, and Zoe suppressed a laugh as she went back to her documents. She supposed he had virtually no experience with children, so it was all new to him, but it was kind of funny to watch the brilliant man try to solve little Logan like he was a puzzle.
The next time she looked up, Adam said, “He’d do better if he supported himself on the couch. That tabletop is too low so he keeps falling down.”
Zoe laughed out loud. “You go right ahead and give him that advice.”
Adam’s eyebrows drew together briefly, as if he couldn’t figure out whether she was serious or not.
She glanced at her watch. “It’s actually time for his dinner. Do you mind if I give him some food?”
“Of course not.” Adam began to straighten the stack of papers, as she went to pick Logan up from the floor and settle him in his highchair.
Zoe then pulled some baby food out of the refrigerator. Since she’d had a lot of spare time lately, she’d been making homemade food for Logan. Now, she mixed up some porridge and spooned out puréed carrots.
When she returned to Logan’s highchair, she saw Adam had been watching her. “Guess he’s not old enough for sushi yet?” he said in a dry voice.
Zoe laughed as she fed Logan his first bite, carefully avoiding his flailing arm. “He’s a good eater, but that might be pushing it.”
Logan liked the porridge. But, when she tried to feed him the carrots, he made a face and spit them out. Used to this behavior, she tried again.
“He doesn’t like carrots,” Adam said.
“He used to like them. Now he just wants fruit. But he still has to eat his vegetables.”
She managed to get Logan to swallow a couple of bites, although he babbled out his discontent and waved his arm rather grumpily. On one of the waves, he managed to hit the spoon, and a glob of carrots flew out of the spoon and smacked Zoe in the eye.
She grunted and tried to wipe the carrots away. “That wasn’t very nice,” she chided, having trouble seeing out of both eyes since they were tearing up so much. After a minute of wiping at her eye, she asked Adam to watch him while she went to rinse it out.
Zoe went into the bathroom to wash her face. When she stared at herself in the mirror, she realized she looked pretty bad—her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, her sweatshirt too baggy, and her face kind of blotchy from the carrot in the eye.
With a shrug, she started back, but then she heard Adam talking. It seemed so out of place that she paused to listen.
“Carrots aren’t my favorite either, but your mom seems to think you should eat them.” After a couple of Logan’s babbles, Adam continued, “No, you can’t have the spoon. I'm trying to use it. Oh, all right, here it is. I’ll see if I can find another one.”
Fascinated, Zoe moved toward the kitchen so she could see what was happening. She caught sight of Adam as he was returning to the dining table with another baby spoon in his hand. Logan was sitting happily in his highchair, banging his commandeered spoon on the tray with carrot on his chin.
Adam caught her before she could see anything more. With a rueful half-smile, he said, “I don’t seem to have any natural talent for feeding babies.”
“Who does?” Walking over to join them, she said, “Go ahead, if you want.”
Adam handed her the spoon. “I think I’ll let you take care of it.”
She wasn’t surprised. Without comment, she took the spoon and started to feed Logan again.
She managed to get him to eat most of his supper. Then she wiped his face, took off his bib, cleaned off the tray, and suctioned on a toy steering wheel that was made to attach to the highchair tray. Logan squealed at the sight of his steering wheel and started to hit the buttons to the make them beep and light up.
Then she sat down to finished signing the documents Adam had brought over. “Sorry it’s taken so long,” she said, glancing up at him sheepishly. “I’m sure you just wanted to stop by for a few minutes, and you’ve been stuck here forever.”
Adam gave a half-shrug. “No big deal. I don’t have plans this evening.”
Something about the way he said it made Zoe look at him discreetly from under her lashes as she pretended to read the last page. For just a moment, she caught a flicker of expression—something almost wistful.
Acting on instinct, she suggested casually, “You can stay fo
r dinner if you want. I'm not sure what I'll make, and I'm sure it won't be gourmet. But you’re more than welcome to stay—since you’ve had to hang around here so long.”
Adam hesitated for a moment. Then said, “All right. Thanks.”
Zoe didn’t know if she was pleased or not by his agreement. But he was intelligent and informed and had a dry sense of humor, when he let her see it, and sometimes it was kind of lonely with just her and Logan in this vast apartment in the evenings.
For so many months before Josh had died, her life had been packed with more than she could handle—going to the hospital, caring for Josh, giving birth, taking care of a newborn. And now her days seemed so incredibly empty.
As she went to the refrigerator to see what she had to eat, she had to fight not to feel sorry for herself.
“Do you think you’ll want to find a job again?” Adam asked, as if he’d been reading her mind.
Collecting peppers, mushrooms, garlic, and an onion, she glanced back over at Adam with a shrug. “Yeah. I’m sure I will eventually. But it would be really hard to leave Logan right now. I guess I just need to figure out the right time.” She released a long sigh. “And find a job I can do.”
“I’m sure you’d be able to find a job in retail,” Adam said. “Wouldn’t the department store you used to work for want to take you back?”
“They might.” She’d been promoted a couple more times—to department manager of women’s apparel—when she’d had to quit her job several months ago, after Josh had gotten sick. “But they’ve already replaced me, of course. And they wouldn’t necessarily have a job opening.”
“With your experience, I can’t imagine you'd have trouble finding a good position.”
Zoe smiled at Adam, feeling a little better. It was hard not to be convinced by the matter-of-fact confidence in his voice. “Maybe.” She pulled out a knife and offered it to him. “Do you feel like chopping some vegetables?”
Adam got up willingly, and together they cut up vegetables and made a sauce for the fresh pasta Zoe had bought that morning. Fortunately, Logan was distracted by his steering wheel and pleased to have so much activity going on around him, so he didn’t fuss.
Zoe had a surprisingly good time, chatting with Adam about idle topics and admiring—somewhat begrudgingly—his facility in the kitchen. Their sauce ended up much better because of his suggested additions.
Josh had always been a frozen pizza or ham sandwich kind of guy when he was left on his own.
They ate their salad, pasta, and French bread with some red wine Zoe opened. And afterwards she fed Logan his favorite banana and pear purée.
By the time she started picking up the dishes, she was feeling surprisingly relaxed and comfortable. It had been a long time since she’d enjoyed a simple meal like this.
Adam was recounting a story from a few months ago about how an intern at his company had tried to maneuver her way into getting an exclusive story on him for her college newspaper. In his warm, dry voice, Adam gave the full narration of her attempts: first to talk to him “accidentally” in the elevator and the break room, then to bribe and flatter a couple of employees into sharing information, and then finally to sneak into his office.
Zoe assumed Adam must have been somewhat annoyed at the time, but now he was clearly enjoying the memory of having the girl, cursing them all soundly, hauled out of his office by security.
“What did she call you?” Zoe asked, amusement in her voice as she pictured the scene. She put the plates in the sink and returned to the table for the salad bowls.
Adam was on his feet now and handed them to her. His voice was rich with irony as he replied, “An oaf. She actually called me an oaf.”
Laughter rippled out without warning at the sight of his expression—both bemused and sardonic. And once she started laughing, she couldn’t stop. She managed to get the bowls into the sink, and then she held onto the counter, nearly bent over with her amusement.
She heard Logan giggling behind her from his highchair. He’d always laughed when she did.
She hadn’t laughed very much since he’d been born.
Then it hit Zoe like a sledgehammer. Josh was dead. Her husband was dead. And she was here eating and talking and laughing with his cousin, as if it didn’t matter.
In an instant, her laughter transformed into a shock of grief.
Sobs ripped through her throat, and she brutally tried to suppress them, still holding onto the edge of the counter, her face twisted in an attempt to control herself.
She couldn’t. Her whole body shook with choked sobs.
“Zoe,” Adam said. His voice was close, as if he’d moved toward her.
She didn’t turn around—was mortified by the breakdown but couldn’t possibly control it.
“Zoe, don’t.”
Her eyes burning and her throat aching, she managed to turn around and say, “I’m sorry. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. And Adam stood in front of her in a slightly wrinkled suit and loosened tie, with a stiff and helpless expression on his attractive face, as if he had absolutely no idea what to do.
She wasn’t sure how it happened—if she moved or he moved first. But she ended up sobbing in his arms, her face buried in his jacket.
Adam didn’t say anything, and she didn’t know if he was trying to comfort her or if he was trapped in an emotional situation he wanted desperately to escape. But he held her tightly and let her cry. And he smelled nice—not like Josh but warm and masculine just the same.
And he missed Josh too.
To her relief, the burst of grief worked itself out after just a minute or two. When she could manage to get herself together, she pulled away from him, feeling rather foolish. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He still looked a little stiff, but he scanned her face closely. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” She pushed her hair back behind her ears and straightened her shoulders. “I was actually having a decent evening.
She went over to pick up Logan from the highchair and hugged him against her chest, taking comfort in his warm body. Then, sniffing the air, she said, “I think I better go change his diaper. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
As she carried Logan into the bedroom to change him, she wondered whether Adam was ready to leave. She should have given him a chance to escape. She couldn’t imagine he’d want to hang out here for much longer with a stinky baby and a weepy woman.
When she changed Logan and carried him back out, she found Adam sitting in Josh’s favorite leather chair, reading something on his smart phone.
“Sorry to keep you so long,” she said, lowering herself onto the couch with Logan in her lap. “I’m sure you just planned to stop by for a few minutes.”
“I told you,” Adam said, looking up with a vaguely impatient expression she recognized, “I didn’t have any plans today.”
“Oh. Okay. Good.” She made a few faces at Logan, who giggled, and then let him stand up in her lap. “Thanks for hanging out with us.”
He just gave a half-shrug and didn’t answer.
An idea hit her suddenly, and she asked the question before she could think it through. “Did you and Josh talk about more than Byte Tech?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when you talked to him before he died, did you talk about more than just his company?”
Adam looked away from her.
“Adam, tell me.”
Logan babbled out some sounds, a few closely resembling “mama.” She couldn’t tell whether he connected the sounds to her or not, but she liked to think he did.
Not letting herself get distracted, she prompted, “Adam?”
“He asked me to take care of you and Logan.”
It felt like Zoe’s heart dropped into her gut. “What?”
Adam made a faint gesture with his hands, almost in surrender. “He asked me to take care of you. Make su
re you both were all right.”
“But why…I didn’t think he…” She trailed off, not wanting to say the words that might hurt Adam’s feelings.
He said them. “You didn’t think he trusted me? He didn’t always. Not fully. I was a Peterson and he never trusted that. But I think he was starting to trust me at the end.”
It felt like there was more to say, but Adam had evidently finished. He sat and stared out the window at the cityscape lit against the evening sky.
Logan did a few knee bends, laughing as she helped him stand up in her lap.
Zoe wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure how to feel. Part of her was glad that Josh has resolved things—at least to a certain extent—with Adam before he died. But she felt weird about his asking Adam to take care of them.
“Logan and I are all right,” she said at last. “We don’t need taking care of.”
When Adam didn’t answer, she was afraid she’d offended him. “Thanks, though,” she added. “I know Josh would…would appreciate it.”
“What else would I do?” Adam asked, his voice low and soft.
She wasn’t quite sure what he meant.
“Josh was my family,” Adam explained, his eyes not quite meeting hers. “Since my grandfather died, he was all the family I had left. Of course, I’m going to do what he wanted me to do.”
Zoe’s chest ached, for Adam as much as for her. Although his words were bland, matter-of-fact, something about them sounded as lonely as she felt herself.
Finally, she said, “He wasn’t all the family you had. Logan is your family.” She turned Logan around so he could look at Adam. Intrigued by this new game, Logan babbled and laughed and did a few more knee bends.
Adam’s mouth turned up at the corner.
“Say hi to your Uncle Adam,” Zoe said, trying to shift the poignant mood. “That's your Uncle Adam.”
“Lala,” Logan babbled, grinning and looking between Zoe and Adam.
Zoe chuckled. “That’s right. He’s your Uncle Lala.”
“Do not encourage him,” Adam gritted out, a vaguely appalled expression on his face as he heard what might become his new name.
Trying to suppress her giggles, Zoe managed to keep a mostly straight face and said again, “Uncle Lala.”
