do you like?”
He considers my question as he regards me, closely and carefully. “What do you like?”
His counter question throws me, his little forearms settling on the table as he gets comfortable. “Me?” My mind blanks. What do I like? “The sun on my face,” I tell him, smiling when his little brow furrows.
“Do you like Star Wars?”
Crap. I’ve never seen a Star Wars movie in my life. Silly, but I fear admitting that might destroy our relationship before it’s even started. “I’ve never seen Star Wars.”
His little face is astonished. “Never?”
I shake my head. “You could show me sometime. We could watch them all together.” I see the excitement on his face.
“Cool,” he chirps, as a woman’s sob sounds in the distance. Daniel looks over his shoulder, and I shrink in my chair. I’m mute again. And for the first time, I try to comprehend the turmoil Hilary’s in. How desperate she was for a baby, how she got that baby, and how she must feel now it’s come to bite her on the ass.
“Why’s Mom crying?”
I shoot my eyes to his. “I don’t know.” A lie. But it’s not my place to tell him. It pains me, but I know that.
Daniel links his fingers on the table and starts studying his entwined hands. “So, you’ll watch Star Wars with me? Mom and Dad are fed up with it now. They say there’s only so many times they can watch the same films, but I could watch them every day for the rest of my life.”
“I would watch them every day for the rest of my life too.” I really would.
“Really?”
“Really,” I affirm.
“But you don’t even know if you like it yet.”
“If you like it, I’m sure I’ll love it.”
He smiles, and it very nearly has me weeping. “You’re cool.”
“Does that mean you like me?”
“Yeah, I like you.”
A ragged breath cuts my throat. There’s only one thing that’s ever been said to me that can compare to my son’s words. The first time Danny told me he loved me. “I like you too,” I tell him, compelled to extend my hand across the table. He doesn’t hesitate to take it. I see all the qualities in him that should have been in me. Grace. Warmth. Honesty. For the first time in my life, I don’t look back on my life and curl up in pain. Because everything I should have been is sitting before me. My miserable life seems acceptable now.
I squeeze his hand, looking up when we’re joined by Hilary and her husband. Her eyes are red and puffy. Her husband’s face is grave.
“Daniel, why don’t you get your homework out?” his dad suggests.
He’s up out of his chair quickly. I’ve never known a kid to be so eager over homework. “It’s algebra,” he declares, almost proudly. “I don’t need your help.”
“Then maybe you can teach me,” his dad replies. “Say goodbye to Rose.”
My time is up. For now, at least. “Bye, Daniel.” I fight off the excruciating pain radiating through me. Be thankful. Be grateful.
He wanders around the table and offers his hand. Unsure, I accept, and he shakes it. “It was nice to meet you.”
My heart breaks. “And you.”
“One day, we’ll binge-watch my Star Wars box set.”
“I’d love that.” I feel so warm inside. So optimistic. It’s an odd feeling, but I like it. “Can I have a hug, Daniel?” I ask.
“Sure.” He dives on me like it’s nothing, when it is absolutely everything. His little body against mine feels like the best medicine. A lifesaving medicine. I embrace his cuddle and let my mind wander back to the only other time I held him in my arms. I love you, I say in my head, closing my eyes and cherishing the moment. “You’d better go do that algebra.”
He’s gone from my arms faster than he dived into them, zooming out of the kitchen at one hundred miles an hour.
Then it’s just me and his parents. Worry is rife on their faces. “I’m sorry. He just walked right in here.”
“Did you tell him?”
“Of course not.” My face must be as offended as my tone. “I’m not here to ruin your lives. I’m here because I should be. I realize it’ll take time and a gentle approach.”
Hilary relaxes. “Thank you.”
“How do we get hold of you?” her husband asks, pulling out his phone. I reel off my number and smile gratefully when he calls my cell, giving me his. “I’m Derek.”
I nod. “I’m going away,” I say.