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But he doesn’t get to finish that alarming sentence, nor do I get a chance to respond.
We hear the front door open and the pitter-patter of five-year-old feet storm across the living room, through the kitchen, and barreling down the hallway toward Vince’s bedroom.
“Shit!” I say, covering myself with a blanket.
Vince, who’s already in his pajama pants, tosses me my clothes. I bolt into the bathroom and shut the door. I get dressed while listening to their conversation through the door.
“Hey, kiddo. How was the sleepover?”
Max chatters away as they make their way back into the kitchen. “Whoa! Who did you make all these pancakes for? Can I have some?”
“For you and for…my overnight guest.”
I bite my lip. So he’s not going to lie about us. This feels good.
I slip out of the bedroom and sheepishly find myself in the kitchen, confronted not only with Max but with another pair of grown-ups.
“Did you guys have a sleepover too?” Max asks me.
“Busted,” the man sniggers. The woman with him slaps his arm and shakes her head at me as if to apologize for the man’s behavior. They are most definitely married.
“Shut up and eat some pancakes, Barry,” Vince says with a smirk.
“Yes. Yes, we did,” I say, reaching out my hand to the woman first. “Hi. I’m Jewel.”
Vince makes introductions. Barry pops off, saying, “If I had thought the date was going to go this well, I would have texted you to get the all-clear before bringing Max home.”
Shelley rolls her eyes and mouths to me, “I’m so sorry.”
I shrug and wave it off.
Vince explains that he’d picked me up himself, otherwise my car would have been parked in the driveway.
Max, for one, seems pleased with the discovery that I’ve spent the night.
“Good. I was hoping you would marry my foster dad.”
20
Vince
The natural consequence of dating not only a sunshine woman but also one who is a teacher is that sooner or later you’re going to end up adjacent to lederhosen.
“Please?”
My Jewel is looking up at me pleadingly.
I’ve come to have lunch with Max at school again, and by extension, I get to see my woman. We’re eating collard greens and brown rice and fried tofu. Max has really taken a shine to vegetarianism, so I guess that’ll save me some grocery money.
“You need help with what now?”
Jewel twiddles her fork and looks full of mischief.
Apparently my sullen demeanor does not intimidate her anymore.
“Tryouts are after school today for the winter musical. Our biggest donor for the arts, Mr. Rushmore, has been very hard to contact these days and I need as much help as I can get. Usually he provides us with a construction crew to build sets, pro bono. But now it looks like things have changed.”
I chew my tofu. I don’t hate it. Sorta chewy and salty and mushroomy. “I still don’t see what this has to do with me,” I say. In reality, I know exactly where this is headed. I just like to hear her talk to me.
