Page 84 of Silver Brewer

“I’d never ask you to do this,” she tells me. “As far as moving—”

“Cricket, can you forget I mentioned it? Let that brain rest a little bit. Get some sleep, okay, and we can talk about all this another day.”

“I love you,” she mutters, her voice falling quieter as I stroke up and down her back. Those words are all I need from her as a sign of commitment, a sign we’ll figure it out.

“I love you, too.”

+ + +

“I miss you,” she whispers through the phone after telling me Finn fell asleep on her shoulder.

It’s mid-January. Eight weeks down. We haven’t spoken again about her moving to Georgia or what the end of six months will entail. I’m gun-shy to mention it, so I bide my time and fly to her every few weeks. This is an off weekend, so I’m home and we’re doing our nightly phone call.

“I miss you, too. I miss Finn.” He’s so much more than I thought he’d be. I didn’t think I’d want to start over again at almost fifty, and I’m actually a little surprised at the encouragement from both Billy and Charlie to take on fatherhood again. I haven’t mentioned the baby to my parents yet, using the excuse Letty’s too busy with work to travel to Georgia.

She still worries the mother will show up and want to stake her claim on Finn. I send up a silent prayer each day that doesn’t happen. Letty’s a good mother despite her fears or maybe because of them. She wants a good future for the little guy, and so do I.

I never considered boy versus girl. It isn’t an either/or; I just wanted healthy children, but I’m feeling this connection with Finn I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t there for my girls as infants. Maybe it’s because I have practice at being a dad. Whatever it is, I love the kid as though he’s mine. I want him to be mine. Letty makes no hints about marriage or moving in or sharing Finn, though, and I won’t ask for fear it will result in another disagreement. We seem to be on shaky ground despite the constant communication and the occasional visits. Our lovemaking has become less enthusiastic than our first meetings because she’s exhausted. I feel her slipping from me, but I’m not ready to release her.

“How’s the writing coming?” The last time I was there, she was scribbling notes in a notepad. When I asked her what she was doing, she said just jotting down ideas. I snuck a peek while she fixed a bottle for Finn.

“Are you writing a book?” I asked.

“Just playing around.”

“Tell me,” I demanded. I wanted to know what she was thinking, especially since she hinted this was something she wanted when she was younger.

“I just can’t get Sam Calder and his Annie out of my head. Or the town. It’s like an unsolved mystery. The place. Their love. Did she come for the pickle jar? Did she get his message, whatever it was? It’s a great story.” She shrugged nonchalantly, but I don’t want her to blow it off.

“You should write this. Make it your own or call him and get more details.” She smiled half-heartedly and handed me the bottle. I liked feeding Finn. I liked holding him close, and when she fell next to me on the couch, leaning her head on my shoulder, I liked how it felt to be connected. Each of us touching as though we’re a family.

“I thought up a few more ideas, but it’s hard to concentrate with a lack of sleep. I’m learning to type while holding Finn.”

I hate her struggles. I hate how alone she sounds. I want to be there for her. I want her here with me.

“I can’t wait to read it.”

“It’s going to be embarrassing.”

“Why?”

“Because you might recognize some scenes, Mr. Lumbersexual.”

I chuckle, lying back on my bed. If I close my eyes, I can feel her next to me, pressing against me.

“You know I’m always limber for you.”

“I miss sex,” she whispers, and my dick twitches.

“Mmm…me too.” My hand slips into my pants to straighten my growing length.

“I hate how I’m not in the mood.” And I release myself from my pants. “Mommy-itis, I guess. Feeling a little not so pretty and desirable.”

“You’re desirable, darlin’. Very desirable.”

I hear her shuffle through the phone. “Hang on,” she whispers, and I assume she’s setting Finn down in his crib. Then I hear a door close.

“How desirable am I?” she teases, and a smile curls my lips.