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“Okay but I’ve only been around his son a few times now.”
“And nothing has changed?”
“He’s a great kid. but last night was different. There weren’t really any distractions. He sat next to me on the couch and showed me how to solve three different kinds of Rubik’s cubes.”
“That’s awesome. He was comfortable with you.”
“But I didn’t know what to say to him, I froze. The zoo was easy, and when he comes into the store it’s simple, but I don’t have a motherly instinct.”
“Yes, you do. You have been amazing with Felicity. I’ve never told you to act around her or what to say to her. You just knew.”
I unscrewed the top off of the bottle of red wine I picked up on my way home last night and filled my tumbler.
“Okay, but she’s a baby. This is an eight-year-old. Who’s never had a mother in his life.”
“All the more reason he needs one. He needs to see how his dad treats his “mom”. He needs a feminine touch, all boys do, whether grown men want to believe it or not.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say to her as I take a big gulp of wine.
“I am right, and I know you love him. Just because you tell him doesn’t mean you are getting married and jumping face first into a mother role. I’m sure he wants to take it just as slowly as you want to. And what you pointed out was right. His son is eight years old and has never had a mother figure in his life. It’s going to take him a lot of time to adjust to the idea of a mother also.”
“I will take everything you have said into consideration.”
“That’s all I can ask. I love you.”
“I love you, too, and give Felicity a kiss from her aunty.”
“Will do,” my sister says before we both hang up.
As I walk out of the kitchen, I grab one of the containers of dog cookies. Then I make my way into the bedroom, tears forming at the thought that this man loves me, and I might love him. Confusion, happiness and sadness all at once. What if he’s fallen in love with the wrong person?
I climb into bed, turn the TV on, and start munching on dog cookies, washing them down with wine. Thankfully, they are made with all natural ingredients, so no harm, no foul.
IspendmostofSunday morning remaking the dog cookies I ate last night and avoiding the text message I can see sitting unopened on my phone from Ethan. But after the third ding, I give up.
8:00 AM Ethan: Good Morning. I hope I didn’t scare you off last night. I didn’t nor do I expect you to be on the same level as me. I know everyone moves emotionally at their own pace. But I had to give you a glimpse into how I am feeling about you.
10:00 AM Ethan: You might be sleeping still but I just want to let you know that I am here whenever you’re ready.
1:00 PM Ethan: I’m probably looking into this too much, but it’s been a few hours, are you upset with me?
Crap.
Me: Hey, sorry I haven’t responded. I did sleep in, I had to make cookies, and I am a little nervous about talking to you.
Ethan: I understand. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.
Me: Thank you.
Ethan: Of course
What am I doing? This isn’t right. I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a mom. I don’t even want to be a mom. I have to tell him. He needs to know that I can’t fit into that role, and it’s best if we just stop now so no one gets hurt.
The thought of telling him makes my chest squeeze and tears prick the backs of my eyes. I know I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with worse. A couple nights with some wine and it will be like every other break up. I got this.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ethan
