about next week, next year? And who’s to say they’re going to want you around? my inner voice inside challenges me. My stomach churns remembering the feelings from my own childhood. Before we move forward in any capacity, I need to have a private conversation with Kara, one that has nothing but everything to do with our son.
With that thought in my mind, I grab my phone. Instead of texting, I dial and wait.
One ring. Two. Then a breathless “Hello?”
My heart twists a little just hearing her voice. “Hey, Kara,” I say casually.
“Oh, hi, Jennings. I was just going to text you about dinner.” There’s a lag in our conversation I need to fill. Fast.
“I actually think we should talk.” Even as the words come out of my mouth, I wince. Did that sound as ominous to her as it did to me?
“What? Is something wrong?” God, it must have. I can feel her anxiety through the phone.
“Everything’s fine,” I soothe. “I just think there’s some things we should talk about without Kevin overhearing, and now that we’ve established a good foundation”—at least I hope so—“it might be good to get some things out.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” I can almost picture her organizing her thoughts into lists. “Maris is off tonight, and frankly I’d feel more comfortable with her being here for Kevin. Even though he’s old enough I’d normally leave him home alone, this is a new place, and with everything that’s happening…” She’s babbling, so I jump in.
“I understand,” I interject smoothly. “We both understand why you’re being cautious. So why don’t you check with Maris, and if that works, I’ll pick you up about six? Restaurants close early around here.”
“That’s fine.”
“Either way, I’ll see you then.”
“Bye, Jennings.” And I hear her disconnect.
I’m about to try to force myself to go back to work when suddenly I grumble, “Crap,” and pick up my phone again. Dialing a different number, I wait. A different female voice answers. Without any preamble, I say, “I’m taking Kara out to talk tonight. Where can I take her without it seeming like it’s too much of a date?”
A millisecond later, I have to pull my phone away from my ear as Rainey screams her excitement. I can’t blame her though.
I feel the same way.
Kara’s moaning around a spoonful of soup. The sound hits me low in the gut as I try to swallow the poached pear and gorgonzola salad I ordered. “Good?” I manage to grate out.
“Delicious. The way they combined the Thai flavor is incredible.” Without thinking, she holds out her spoon. “Here, you have to try this.”
Unwilling and unable to pass up the opportunity to place my lips where hers have been, I lean forward across the small table and capture the spoon she’s just dunked into the savory broth. Without losing her eyes, I guide her hand toward my mouth so I can I wrap my lips around the oval. “Delicious,” I agree.
She’s trembling slightly when she pulls back. The spoon clatters against the side of the saucer as she drops it. “I’ll just wait for my main if you want any more.”
Oh, there’s a lot I want, but I keep that to myself. Shaking my head, I dive back into my salad which could comfortably feed a family of four. “I’m just glad there’s a refrigerator in my room. I forget the size some restaurants give as portions,” I admit sheepishly.
Kara laughs, her countenance relaxing. “I know; it’s a complete crapshoot. Either you’re getting a portion the size of a quarter—”
“Or one to feed a small family?”
“Exactly! And the prices are the exact same either way. Despite the fact I love finding new places, there’s something to be said for chain restaurants when you’re on a budget.”
I put down my fork. “Will you promise to be honest with me about something?”
Her face takes on a wary cast. “I could lie and say yes, but I don’t think you want that, Jennings. So, ask your question.”
“Will you let me help with Kevin financially?” Her mouth opens, but I hold up my hand. “There are some very large-ticket items coming up in your future, Kara: cars, college, not to mention feeding our child, who seems to be a bottomless pit. Please, will you consider it.”
She opens her mouth to answer, but someone comes by to refill our water. I hate we’re having this conversation in a restaurant, but where else could we go? We can’t have a talk about our son