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If only it were true. If only Marjorie were Henry’s mama and she lived here with me.
If only…
I wasn’t sure what to say. “Is that a new word, Henry? Did you say Marjorie?”
“Da-da,” Henry said.
Yeah. A fluke.
“I haven’t spent enough time with him for him to know my name,” Marj said.
“Yeah. True.”
“So…I guess I’ll go.”
“Thank you for watching him.”
“I’m happy to help. Anytime.” She turned away and walked toward the doorway.
Let her go. Do the right thing and let her go.
I kissed my son’s rosy cheek. Then, “No. Wait. Don’t go.”
She turned, her expression a mixture of distress and hope. I’d offered her hope with just four words.
“Have you eaten?” I asked quickly. “The least we can do is feed you.”
“I made dinner at home.”
“Oh.”
“But I didn’t eat. I wasn’t hungry.”
I wasn’t overly hungry myself. Rejecting the woman I loved had taken its toll. It was clearly taking its toll on her as well, a fact that made me feel like the lowest of the low. Which was true.
“Oh.”
Great conversation, Bryce.
“Henry already ate. Your mom fed him before she left.”
“Did she eat?”
“I have no idea.”
“She usually waits for me. I’m sure she’s planning something. Why don’t you stay?”
She lifted her brow. “Seriously, Bryce? You want me to stay for dinner?”
For dinner. For the evening. For the rest of your life.
If only I could say the words.
“Sure. My mom would want you to stay. You know, for watching Henry and all.”
“Your mom wants me to stay. Great. What do you want, Bryce?”
I want everything. Fucking everything.
