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I couldn’t imagine watching or feeling that kind of displacement. The belief that your soul was being stolen from your body by a stranger? “It must have been devastating.”
He nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Do you believe that?” I asked. “About the soul?”
He didn't answer right away, just stared at Jacob, who waved his spoon around a little before putting the handle end back in his mouth. Andrew took it out and flipped it around, but Jacob was insistent on what end he wanted to chew on.
“I’ve seen things I don’t understand, and I’ve heard things that I don’t know if I believe or not. I don’t think it’s my place to cast judgment on something I don't understand. But for me, it’s less about the belief, and more that I have the autonomy owed to me as a human being.”
We sat for a few more minutes, listening to the rain, playing with the boys. I wished he would keep talking, but I didn’t want to be annoying.
“You hungry,” Andrew asked.
“Yeah.”
“Go get dressed, I’ll make you some eggs.” He stood up and held Jacob on his hip as he went into the kitchen and began pulling things out of the fridge.Matthew crawled after them.
As I dressed, I tried to sort through everything going through my head at once. The look in Andrew’s eye when he’d looked at my body and called meSugar. What he’d told me about his hair. The way he’d spoken to the boys, and how he looked at them so thoughtfully. How handsome he looked holding my son on his hip.
And he let me sleep in, and was making me breakfast.
Your not-husband sounds like a better deal than my actual husband.
Something sweet and warm bloomed in my chest. Hope? Affection? Maybe some combination of the two? Was it possible that maybe… Andrew still had a little bit of interest towards me?
I thought back to the few times we’d touched in the past few months. It was usually him putting a hand on my shoulder or my arm, and I thought it was his attempt to comfort me nonverbally, since that seemed to be his preferred style of communication. And the last time he’d attempted to do anything else was when he kissed my forehead the day he came to New Jersey to pick us up. I’d thought whatever spark we’d had died that day, the dayhe was forced to deal with the consequences of our one-night stand.
But he had been so good to me and the boys. And there was that one day in the kitchen where he’d challenged me to argue with him, and seemed to want to say or do something, but held himself back… Maybe there was still something there.
I found myself wearing my only cute top with my boring but decently fitting jeans, and I tossed my hair up in a ponytail, pulling a few pieces out at the side. I looked in the mirror before I went out.
Nope, I still look like a tired mom.I gave up messing with my hair and went out to the kitchen to find two eggs and two pieces of toast sitting on the table waiting for me. Andrew put the boys in their highchairs and gave them a few cheerios to keep them occupied, and was scrubbing the pan he’d just used.
He did the dishes. He helped with the boys. He clearly thought I was still at least moderately attractive.
Wasn’t there a university around here?
Maybe, if I was brave enough to consider it, sending the boys to daycare while I went back to college wasn’t my only option after all.
The rain stopped around one o’clock in the afternoon. The boys were down for a nap but would probably wake up soon. Andrew sat on the couch, glancing up at the tv occasionally while he helped me catch up on the laundry. He glowered at the screen where the current stars of a reality TV show were discussing their budget for their dream home.
“How do you watch this shit,” he muttered.
“It’s not that bad,” I laughed.
He muttered a few choice words under his breath. “I’ll probably go into the office in a bit, catch up on paperwork.”
“Okay. Thank you for this morning, Drew.”
He nodded, but didn’t answer. He hadn’t so much as glanced at me since breakfast, and it kind of stung.
“You buy that stroller yet?”
I pursed my lips. I’d been putting it off, because all the double strollers were very expensive.
“Get it today or I’m going by the store on the way home, Maria. And I won’t pick out the one you like.”
“You need to give me a budget or something,” I sighed. “I always feel like I'm spending too much of your money.”
