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Chapter 2
~ AVA ~
If my neighbor, Mrs.Marshall, wasn’t so cautious about who she rents her basement apartment to, there’s no way I would have let my son build a snowman with that guy.
Even now, I’m watching them like a hawk from my window as the sun tracks lower in the sky.
They’re definitely making progress and, probably at the urging of my overly ambitious son, that snowman might even end up taller than the Navy guy who’s building it.
And he’s tall.Easily 6’3”—not that I looked hard enough to be sure, of course.
Pfft, of course I’ve looked.Every woman in this neighborhood has looked.And half of them probably have their phones set to sound an alarm every Thursday evening so they can watch him take out the trash when he’s in town.
He’s always seemed nice enough.We’ve shared a few polite waves in passing when I’m driving Nicholas to guitar lessons or soccer practice or any of the other standard kid-activities in this area.
But I’ve never said more than maybe ahiorgood morningorhave a nice weekendto him.I just don’t want him thinking I’m one of those divorced moms who zeroes in on every hot man who walks by.
And living here, that’s actually pretty difficult.Mrs.Marshall always has some single Navy man living in her basement apartment, and her taste is rather impeccable.
I nibble my bottom lip, watching him and my son together.It warms my heart to see Nicholas having so much fun with him.But at the same time, the sight of it makes me feel vulnerable.
No, more than that.
I feelmy son’svulnerability as he laps up the attention of any man who might fall into the realm of a father figure.
Maybe I should cut this short.
But how can I?Nicholas is having a blast out there.
I pull out my phone and tap in a text to my friend Charlisa.“U know the renter next door?”I hitsend.
It only takes an instant to see her pop out a reply.Charlisaliveson her phone.“How can I forget him?” she responds, using the same words any woman with a pulse would use because he’s just that memorable.
“He’s making a snowman with Nicholas,” I follow-up.
Her reaction arrives quickly.“Don’t let Nicholas get attached,” she warns.
My shoulders slump.I kind of expected a reply like that.
Char is like that little voice of reason in my head, slightly negative, but practical and always erring on the side of caution.
Still, she’s a loyal friend, and I’ve always appreciated her candor.
After I got divorced, I found myself surrounded by people who’d say things like“You should just get out there and start dating again”or“You won’t have trouble finding a man”or“You’re such a catch, Ava.Some guy will quickly snap you up.”
Lies.All of them.But at the time, I’d dared to hope they were true and found myself consistently disappointed.
Then a while back, I met Charlisa when our sons started playing Minecraft together.Her blunt words that reflected reality were just what I needed.
Like right now.
I should go out there and make sure my son doesn’t get sucked into the vortex of this man’s charisma.
Resolved, I grab a suitable carrot for a nose from the fridge, along with a scarf and hat for the snowman.
I’ll just check in with them and gauge whether or not my son is out there setting himself up for heartbreak when this guy disappears like all the other Navy neighbors we’ve had.
I’ve only got one kid.I can’t mess this one up.
