I said. I missed my parents every day, but I’d never really thought about having them worry about me even as an adult. It would be an extra layer of stress.
I turned back to the stove and served the food on two plates.
“What in the world is this?” Addie asked, her eyes rounding. “It looks amazing.”
“It’s a spicy barbecue pork with vegetables and rice. Korean,” I added.
“And how did you learn to make this?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Just thought it sounded good when I read about it, and figured I’d try something different.” I didn’t add that this was my way of traveling since I’d never gotten a chance to actually do any real travel.
“Well it looks fantastic.”
“I’m sure you had a pretty good selection of ethnic food to choose from in New York.”
She lifted a shoulder, and nodded. “We didn’t really experiment much, though. Luke liked things a certain way. We got into habits, I guess.” She didn’t sound happy about it. I didn’t get it. If Addie was mine, I’d take her anywhere she wanted to go, eat anything she wanted to try.
We ate in silence for a minute, both of us moving slowly, savoring both the meal and the time we had.
“I know it’s not my business,” I said. “But I’m sorry about what happened with your relationship. It sounds like he took you for granted.”
She made a small noise of assent. “I should have seen it a lot earlier. I was complacent, too. Sometimes it’s easier to believe things are the way you want them than to do anything to change them and try to make them what you want.”
That made sense. And it was true in my life too, maybe.
“I’m sorry too,” she said. “About the way Shelly treats you. It’s not my business either, but I think you’re a fantastic dad.”
It was almost embarrassing how good it felt to hear someone say that. I didn’t think anyone ever had, actually. “That’s seriously my only goal.”
“To be a good dad?”
“Yeah. It’s the only thing my life is really about. The one thing I have to get right.”
“Don’t you have to get things right for yourself though, too?” She was holding the big globe of wine aloft, her head tilted to one side and those big dark eyes on my face. I felt seen in a way I hadn’t in a long time—years.
“Maybe. When I know Dan is grown. Taken care of.”
“So you are going to let your own happiness take a back seat for another, what, like fifteen years?” Her tone made it clear she didn’t agree with this plan. But of course, Addie didn’t have kids.
“I owe him that, I think.”
“I think you owe him a dad who is modeling a full life. Showing him what it looks like to live your fullest, best version of yourself.”
“I think this is probably the best version of myself I can manage right now.”
Addie frowned at me, and I felt her disapproval. “Michael,” she said, her voice low and soft, stirring a deep longing inside me. “You deserve to be happy. And Dan wants that for you too.”
I felt the flush hit my cheeks again, and dropped my eyes as something washed through me—an emotion so overwhelming I worried for a moment I was going to actually break down and cry.
Fuck, get a grip, Tucker.
I swallowed hard and sought a reason why her words were having this effect on me. And then it hit me. No one had cared whether I was happy in years. Not since my parents had died. Dan might care—but he was a kid. His job was to be selfish. It was his right for another year or two at least. But Addie’s words made me feel like she actually cared, and I’d felt so alone for so long, it actually had me choked up.
I covered with another sip of wine and a big bite of pork, and by the time I swallowed, I felt in control of my emotions again.
We talked about other things then, about the way the weather had begun to turn colder, about trying out some of the fireplaces in the cooling house. About the windows we were having replaced over the next week. And as we cleared the dishes and poured ourselves another glass of wine each, I had an idea.
“Want to go on a little treasure hunt?” I asked Addie.
Her eyes lit up and she laughed lightly. “What do you mean?”