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I take a seat next to Cami and give her my attention while ignoring the pull I have toward the woman working around the kitchen.
Lana places my plate in front of me. Before she has a chance to move back, I clasp on to her hand and give it a light squeeze. “Thank you. I’m so happy you invited me.”
Lana’s cheeks, already pink from exertion, turn red. “You’re welcome.”
I brush my thumb over her skin. “I missed your food.” I missed a hell of a lot more than her food, but it feels like a safe way to express myself. She squeezes my hand back in silent acknowledgment before I release her.
While Lana grabs a juice box from the fridge, Cami leans over the table to whisper in my ear.
“You like my mommy.”
My eyes stretch to their limits.
“I can keep a secret.” Cami zips her lips and throws an invisible key over her shoulder.
Damn, the kid is smart. Either that or my interest in Lana is so pathetically obvious that even a five-year-old child notices.
Probably a combination of both.
The aroma of arepas tickles my nose and makes my mouth water. Cami digs in, taking bites in between telling us about how she went swimming at the community pool today with her summer camp. Between her storytelling and Lana’s questions, the entire meal is filled with laughter, fake gasps, and Lana goading Cami with silly questions meant to stir up controversy.
I love how there isn’t a single moment of silence.
I don’t remember the last time I felt this content while doing something so simple. Sure, I’ve had dinner with my family, but something about being surrounded by two couples only amplified the empty feeling in my chest. Tonight, though, that sensation is long gone.
There was a point in my life that I thought it wouldn’t be possible to feel this complete. But tonight, I can sense it.
For the first time in a long time, I begin to hope. To believe that there is more for me in this life than chronic loneliness and a desperation to fit in somewhere. That I can be soberandhappy, so long as I put in the effort.
Or so I wish.
The hum of the dishwashing machine fills the silence as I scrub the counter with a disinfectant wipe.
Lana comes out of Cami’s bedroom and shuts the door softly behind her. She has been at the bedtime routine for an hour already, with Cami asking for ten more minutes of her bath, one extra bedtime story, and a special request for Lana to sing her a lullaby before bed. I tried not to eavesdrop much, but it was hard given how small the house is.
She looks over at me with a strange expression. “You did the dishes.”
“It’s the least I can do after you made dinner.”
Her head tilts. “I might have to invite you to eat with us every single night if it means you doing the dishes.”
“Deal,” I say too fast, my voice reeking of desperation.
She bites down on her bottom lip, rolling it between her front teeth before speaking up. “It was nice.”
My heart thuds harder against my chest. “What was?”
“Having you eat with us. It felt like…” Her voice drifts off.
I refuse to let her get away with not explaining. “What?” I press.
“It felt like you fit in with us.” She looks down at her bare feet as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. As much as I want to vocalize my agreement, I’m afraid what might happen if I do.
She wouldn’t have brought it up if she was worried about what you might say.
“For a moment during dinner, I wished I did.”
