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“Do you wanna marry her?” he asks innocently. He sticks the brush in his mouth, but he turns to face me and stares at me pointedly.
“What do you know about marriage?” I ask him. Maybe if he tells me what he’s thinking, I’ll know better how to handle this. I slip into the room with him and park on the edge of the tub.
“You’re in the same house,” he answers. “Like Grandpa and Grandma.”
“Yeah.”
“And she makes you coffee, and you tell her she’s pretty.”
“I’d like that.” The words are out before I can stop them.
“You hafta tell her that every day.” He purses his sudsy lips as if he’s not sure he could do that in my position.
“Your mom’s beautiful, Ryle,” I answer truthfully. “I could tell her that every day.”
“So, you do wanna marry her.” He shrugs.
“There’s more to it than that, buddy.” I stand and wait while he brushes for a few minutes.
“Like what?” he asks when he rinses.
“Grown up stuff.”
“Kissing.” He turns his nose up.
“What do you know about that?” I laugh when he looks up at me, his face a mask of horror.
“Aunt Harper and Uncle Keith kiss a lot,” he moans and shivers. “So do Uncle Twain and Mabry.”
“Gotcha.”
When he puts his toothbrush away and dries his hands and mouth, I herd him out the door and back to the kitchen, thinking our conversation is over.
“Do you kiss Mom?”
Wondering how I got stuck in this conversation, wondering how Julie would answer him—if she’s ever had to field these kinds of questions—I pick up the airplane box and grab my keys.
“Sometimes.”
“What else?” he asks me.
Not sure what he’s asking, I aim a frown at him. “What else what?”
“Grown up stuff?”
I nearly swallow my tongue. Seriously? He’s six. Do kids know things at that age that we didn’t?
“What do you mean?” I stick my keys in my pocket and drop a hand on his shoulder to steer him to the door. The sooner we get to the park and get this plane in the air, the better.
“Do you fight with Mom?”
A little bit relieved, I sigh as I get him settled into his booster seat.
“Sometimes.”
“Then you’re married.” He shrugs.
Seatbelt clicked around him, I draw back and stare at him. He’s serious as a heart attack. I have to say something. I can’t let him think that, because chances are this will come up later when he’s talking to Julie. If she thinks I’m putting ideas in his head, ideas about us getting back together, she’ll be angry with me.
