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He was adorable, plus maybe I could start my diet next Monday. “Deal.”
* * *
As Mark dishedup the pizza that evening, I realized things seemed casual and easier between us. Maybe there was something about this morning which had made it such. For me, I think it was that I now knew without a doubt there was no chance with him. He’d friend zoned me with a big permanent marker. It took the pressure off. And perhaps it was a sign that, until I was divorced and had put Rob and the mess which was my current life behind me, I wouldn’t be able to move on to anything more. But in my defense, could I help it if I was lonely for a man’s attention? Especially a man as nice as Mark.
“What do you think of the pizza?” he asked.
“It’s great. Tristan sure likes it.” He was already on his second piece.
“He’s going to be big. Is his dad tall?” He grimaced and then apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring him up.”
I refused to let the question bother me. “It’s okay. I have to remember my son deserves to know his father. That means I can’t take offense at innocent questions about him. And in answer to your question: Rob is six feet tall. I heard my father was over six feet. Hopefully, I didn’t dilute the gene pool with being only five foot two.”
He grinned. “You are kind of tiny.”
“Height, yes. Waistline, not so much, but is it any wonder?” I took another bite of ooey, gooey cheese pizza.
He set his slice down, frowning. “You’re not fat.”
“No, but I’m heavier than I should be. Anyhow, maybe after this stress is over, I can concentrate on working out and eating healthier. For now, I’m not depriving myself of good comfort food.”
“Speaking of the stress, does your husband remain in jail?”
Ugh. I hated thinking of Rob as my husband about as much as I loathed Mark referring to him as such. “How about we call him Tristan’s father? It makes me resent him a little less when brought up that way. And yes, he’s still in jail, although they are trying to raise bail. So that situation might not remain for long. I’m told his trial date is set for March. That seems so far away.”
“It’s pretty typical. The prosecution and defense need time to prepare their cases. Has anyone contacted you about testifying?”
“Yes. But I’ve made it clear I won’t be part of the defense. They’d like me to tell some fantasy about how he was a good father and husband. As much as it pains me, I’ll be part of the prosecution where I’ll help show the pattern of destruction started at home.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through all of this.”
I got up, needing to be busy, and brought the brownies over to the table. There I cut off a small square for Tristan. “It won’t be easy, but my only goal is to ensure he doesn’t get custody.”
“Do you think he’d go after him?”
“Maybe. To punish me. Who knows? But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I’d let him near my baby. Not with the lifestyle he’s adopted, which includes dealing drugs. Anyhow, um, if you’re interested, we have Inside Out tonight for our movie.”
He took the hint in my subject change. “It sounds like a horror film.”
I giggled, happy for the distraction. “I never considered that, from the perspective of the title. It’s not horror but cute and Disney. But if you want to pass, I understand.”
“I’m down with movie night. Shall we, Tristan?”
I watched as Mark unbuckled him from of his chair and lifted him up, afterward taking him to the living room. While I cleaned up Tristan’s chair, I saw my laughing boy completely mesmerized by Mark while he was down on the floor learning the names of his trains. I realized how important it was for my son to have positive male influences in his life. I might try to be all things to him, but at the end of the day, he needed to have men to look up to, as well.
“Okay, movie time.”
