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Bryce
Such a perfect picture.
Marjorie holding my son, comforting him, helping him with his teething pain. For a moment I let myself imagine that she lived here, that Henry was her son as well as mine, and that I was coming home to my family.
My beautiful family.
She stared at me, wide-eyed, and then Henry reached his chubby little arms out to me. I smiled and took him from Marj.
Neither of us had spoken yet.
Finally, I said, “Where’s Mom?”
Marjorie didn’t meet my gaze. “She ran out to get diapers. I guess the movers lost them or something.”
“Oh.” Diapers. Man, I was a lousy father. My son was out of diapers, and I’d been clueless.
“I’m sorry she had to bother you. I’m home now, so—”
“So I can leave.” Still not meeting my gaze. “I get it.”
I ran back through that horrible note in my mind.
I’m leaving…
I have no emotional ties to you…
Nothing happened between us, and nothing more will ever happen…
You are Joe’s sister, nothing more…
I wasn’t staying away from her.
Of course my mother—not I—had invited her here. And why not? Mom had no idea what had gone on between Marj and me. It made perfect sense for her to call Marj if she needed a sitter. Marj was close, and she loved Henry. Henry loved her.
She finally looked up and met my gaze.
Hurt shone in her dark eyes. Those eyes, usually so warm and caring, were distant, devastated.
Devastation I had put there.
I was a jerk. A major fucking jerk.
She cleared her throat. “He’s eaten. The cold teething ring seems to help his fussiness a little. We were just about to read a story.”
“Da-da!” Henry said.
A grin split Marjorie’s beautiful face. “He’s talking?”
“Just ‘Da-da’ and ‘Ga-ga,’ for my mom.”
She grabbed one of Henry’s little hands. “Such a smart boy! Good for you, Henry.”
“Ma-ma,” Henry said.
Marj’s cheeks pinked.
It was a fluke, of course. Henry made all kinds of silly sounds.
