Page 25 of My Single Dad Biker

"Partially. Also because I didn't have room for anyone. Louis needed stability and I needed to be excellent at being his father. Everything else was a distraction."

"And now?"

I look at her. "Now I met you and the wary part of my brain is saying this is too fast and too complicated and I should slow down. And the other part is saying I don't care."

She's quiet again. Processing. Then she says, "Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah."

"My mother died two years ago. Sudden stroke. She was in her garden and she just collapsed and she was gone before the ambulance arrived." Her voice is steady but I can hear the grief underneath. "I got the call on a Thursday at 11:30 in the morning while I was teaching rhythm patterns to third graders. I drove home and stayed for two weeks and helped my father with everything."

"I'm sorry."

"The thing that broke me wasn't her dying. It was watching my father afterward. They'd been married thirty-one years and he just kept moving through the house like he was looking for her. Like maybe if he checked one more room she'd be there." She looks at me. "I learned something watching him."

"What."

"That some people stay. That's the dividing line. Not whether you're warm or cold or talk about your feelings. It's whether you stay when things get hard. My mother stayed with my father for thirty-one years through everything. She chose him every day. That's what mattered."

"Your father still alone?"

"Yeah. He's in the house where I grew up. Still plays piano badly every night. Still content. I call him twice a week and visit once a month. He's okay. But I don't think he'll ever stop looking for her in the next room."

We sit in her kitchen holding hands and I'm processing what she just told me. About her mother. About staying. About the fact that she sees the dividing line the same way I do.

"The men I dated before," she says quietly. "They were fine. Nice. We'd date for a few months and it would be pleasant and then it would just fade out because neither of us cared enough to stay. They didn't see me. I didn't see them. It was just time passing."

"And this?"

She looks at me. "You see me. I see you. The parts that are difficult and the parts that aren't. And I'm not going anywhere."

Something in my chest that I didn't know was tight loosens completely.

"Katherine," I say.

"Yes."

"I need to go get Louis."

"I know."

"But I want to come back."

Her breath catches. "When."

"Tomorrow. After Louis is asleep. If you'll let me."

"Yes."

"I want to finish what we started last night."

She squeezes my hand. "So do I."

I stand up and she stands with me. I pull my shirt back on over my shoulder. She walks me to the door and we stop there in her entryway.

"Lock the door after me," I say.

"I will."