Page 40 of After Care

“So?” I said, reminding myself they looked innocent.

“So, I'm not sleeping with West and Masie in the same room,” he said in mock horror.

“Well, I'm not sleeping with you,” I exclaimed. “Sofa city, babe.”I entered my bathroom, prepped for bed, and returned to find he hadn't left.

“Caleb,” I hissed. “Out!”

“Mom,” he whined. “I'll never fit on that couch.”

“Oh, my God.” I sighed, making a wall of pillows down the middle of the bed. I couldn't believe I was doing this, but I was drained from all that happened—the moment of truth, the wine, the sex. I was exhausted. Still, Caleb wasn't six years old; he was six-feet-three and twenty-two. As I lay down, my son's hand reached for mine. In a groggy voice he asked, “Did you make up with him?”

No, I shouted in my head. No, I am not discussing this with my son.

“Yeah,” I answered instead, smiling slowly to myself. Honestly, I could only hope Tommy understood my intentions tonight. I liked him, as Tommy Carrigan, I really, really did.

“He seems like a nice guy. How did you not know who he was?” Caleb chuckled, sleep deep in his laughter.

“I don't know.” I sighed. “I just didn’t, and yeah, he is a nice man.” Although that older woman at the pool suggested Tommy and the band were part of my family, Tommy had actually made us feel like part of his. He'd welcomed us to dinner and treated us like we'd always been there. It was a warm-fuzzy feeling.

“You know it's okay to date him, right?”

“Oh, honey, we aren't dating. We're on vacation. I might never see him again.”

“Why would you say that?” Caleb asked, propping up and shifting as he continued to hold my hand.

“I just mean, we'll go our separate ways when this vacation is over. He's a busy man, a famous man. But our time together has been fun,” I added, my voice saddening at the reality. I wouldn't see him ever again after five more days, but being with Tommy had been exciting. “Why, what did you think I meant?"

“It's just…I don't know…” His voice faded. “You're okay, right?” The shift in his voice clued me to his concern. Cancer. Death. It's a hard discussion to have with your child, one especially hard for them to understand when they are away at college, living their first taste of independence. Caleb came home immediately when I learned the diagnosis. I sent him back to school, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

“I'm fine, honey. The doctors say that I'm all good.” For now, but I didn't add that. There was a chance the cancer could come back. Some day. But maybe not. That was the part I was holding onto—the maybe not.

“Well, you have my permission to date him. Just have fun, Mom.”

I chuckled.

“You know he asked me if he could take you to dinner, right?”

“No,” I laughed, “When?”

“The other night, when he met us in town. He texted me to ask if he could take you to dinner. He wanted my permission.” Caleb fell back on the bed, and I stared up at the ceiling.

“That was...very gentlemanly of him.” And sweet, I thought. Caleb grunted, falling back asleep almost instantly, like men can do. I rolled to my side, my back to him, with the wall of pillows in between us. Fifteen minutes later, I heard him leave my room, and a few moments after that I heard the front door click open and shut. I smiled, knowing Caleb had been the bad guy. He kicked West out.

+ + +

The next morning, I woke to a text. Good morning, darlin’. You look beautiful.

How would you know? I’m still in bed. 😊

Then you definitely look beautiful, but you’d be prettier in my bed. 😉

I laughed before texting him back. Good morning btw. xo.

xo?

Kiss. Hug. Too much? Ugh. I wasn’t good at this and I fell back on the pillow, holding up the phone while the three little dots wiggled as he typed. They disappeared and then returned, and I held my breath. Too much, I decided and flung my hand with the phone down on the bed.

The ping noise signaled his response.