Lex and I took a few minutes to watch the two of them become acquainted before leaving them to play in the living area while we retreated to the kitchen. I pour us two glasses of iced tea and we perch at my kitchen island, watching the two of them play, with Gabriel giggling every time Winston retrieves the little stuffed Bugs Bunny he tosses across the room.
“I think this is another sign that you need to adopt a dog,” I say, clasping my hands around my cool glass.
Lex nods. “Or I can just bring Gabe here more often. Less responsibility for me.”
My chest warms at the idea. “I’d love that.”
“Plus, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be staying with my brother. My next place might not be pet friendly.”
I tilt my head. “He kicking you out?”
She lifts a shoulder. “No. Just... more space would be good. I’d like Gabe to have his own room. Plus, I share a wall with Olsen, so...”
My face warms. “Ah.”
“Sorry.” Lex reaches across the island to give my arm a squeeze. “I won’t bring him up again.”
“No, it’s fine. I barely knew him.” Though I still can’t help the jab of envy I feel knowing that some other woman has been successful where I haven’t been, especially with such a perfect guy. He really was the whole package.
“Doesn’t seem fine,” Lex prods.
“It’s just...” She waits for me to continue as I look down at the ice tinkling in my glass. “I always saw myself with a family. Married. Kids.” We both look over to Gabe, who’s sat himself on the couch and is stroking Winston’s belly. “I thought by now I’d be well on my way to all of that. Now I’m not sure if it’s going to happen for me at all.”
My heart sinks, knowing that there’s a great big love out there that I’m missing out on—the love of a partner who cherishes me, and the love of children who will carry part of me on with them when I go. It’s a big, cavernous hole in the centre of my chest echoing throughout my life, whispering sad notions about how someday I’ll die alone and no one will care.
Lex’s soft hands slide over mine, removing my fingers fromwhere I’ve been squeezing the cold glass, then holds them in hers. “Hey,” she says, ducking her head.
I exhale slowly and meet her gaze. Her eyes are full of warmth and understanding, holding space for me without making me feel worse about myself. They give me hope.
“Youwillfind your person. Okay?” Lex’s beautiful eyes dart back and forth between mine. “I promise.”
Despite all the evidence to the contrary, all my misfired meet-cutes and failed flirtations, I believe her. I manage a smile, then give her hands a squeeze before letting go. “You must have come up with quite the solution, then,” I say, steering the conversation toward a less painful topic.
“Just you wait.” She grins with anticipation.
“But first, dinner!” I move to the stove to finish preparing the meal I’d planned. After thinking about what to cook them all week, I’d decided on chicken alfredo. Every kid loves chicken alfredo, and I wanted to impress Gabe. Lex has become incredibly important to me, so having Gabe’s stamp of approval has become all-encompassing. If tonight doesn’t go well, then I have to go back to seeing Lex every other week.
As Lex keeps me company in the kitchen, I finish cooking the pasta and warming the sauce, then we call Gabe in to eat. My dining area, unfortunately, is just two barstools at the kitchen peninsula. I give Gabe and Lex my chairs and then stand on the other side to eat, insisting to Lex that I always eat like this (I do not) so she’ll take the last stool. Gabe picks at his noodles.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, twirling my pasta.
Gabe avoids me, looking up at his mom. “The noodles are too soft.”
Lex glances from me to her son. “You haven’t even tried a bite yet. How do you know?”
“I can just tell.”
“Please, try a bite?” Lex coaxes.
Gabe takes a moment to gather his courage, then forks the tiniest bite of noodle I’ve ever seen, raises it to his lips, and takes a wee bite. His entire body cringes and he practically drops the fork, pushing his plate away. “It’s too soft. And the sauce isn’t the same. And the chicken has flakes on it.”
Flakes?I mouth to Lex, not knowing what he means.
She sighs, then mouths,seasoning.I nod, understanding. Lex tries a bit longer to encourage Gabe to eat, without luck.
“You know,” I say, leaning toward Gabe conspiratorially. “Sometimes Winston doesn’t want to eat his food, but if he doesn’t eat his food, then he won’t have the nutrients his body needs to be healthy, and then he’d get sick! And I love him so much, I want to keep him around as long as possible. You know what I do when I want him to eat?”
Gabe, who has formed a soul bond with my dog at this point, stares up at me with big eyes that match his mom’s in their piercing intensity.
