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“I’ll get dinner started,” I tell Isaac once we’re in the house.
“Can I play with my ball outside?” he asks. “I’ll be in the front, and I won’t speak to strangers.”
I grin. He knows all my fears. “Okay, but keep the front door open and don’t go disturbing the new neighbor.”
“I won’t, Dad,” he says and bounds up to his room to get the ball.
In the kitchen, I roll up my sleeves and get to work. I’ve become quite the chef since Brenda left. Trying out new recipes has been one way of keeping myself occupied. Over the last year and a half, I’ve learned survival techniques that have nothing to do with being a firefighter.
Keeping busy is one of them, and ensuring that by bedtime, I’m so tired that it doesn’t take me more than a few minutes to fall asleep. The images of Brenda and Mike rolling around on Mike’s bed next door while I’m at work no longer haunt me.
On the day she left, she had been in a vicious mood, telling me all the gory details of their affair. She planted images that haunted me for almost a year. How she spent the night at his house when I was working the night shift and excruciating details of how Mike fucked her. Things that a man should never hear about his wife.
The only thing that had made me hang on to my sanity was Isaac. I’d been left without a wife, but Isaac had been left without a mother. He was three years old then, and after asking about her for months, he had abruptly stopped. We never speak about her. I don’t know whether that’s good or bad; I hate to bring it up and cause my boy more pain. I do wonder whether he has forgotten her in all his innocence. There’s no way to know without asking Isaac, and that is something I can’t bring myself to do.
***
Dinner is ready, and I realize that I haven’t heard the sound of Isaac’s ball in the front yard. My stomach churns. I drop the kitchen towel and hurry out.
“Isaac,” I shout as I step out onto the porch.
There’s no response, and images of a frightened Isaac being driven off in a strange car fill my mind. I run out, and as I cross the front lawn, I hear his sweet voice. My knees almost buckle from the relief. I follow his voice, and when I see him, I smile despite my anxiety.
He and the neighbor are lying side by side on respective lounges. Their chins are up, and they are looking at the clouds.
“I see a car, Mila,” Isaac says.
“I see it too,” the lady says. Her voice is sweet and gentle, the kind you cannot imagine ever sounding angry. As I get closer, I realize that it’s not just her body that is hot. She’s beautiful with wide blue eyes, a full soft mouth, and blonde locks that frame her face.
She hears my footsteps and turns her head. She stands up and smiles. Her smile deepens the dimples in her cheeks. My heart does a somersault in my chest.
“Hi, my name is Mila, and I’m your son’s newest friend.” She sticks out a hand, and I take it. Electricity sizzles as our hands touch. I’ve never had such a reaction to a stranger. Her hand is slim and long and so soft. I don’t want to let go of it.
“And I’m Brad Bennet, sorry if Isaac—”
“Not at all. He’s an absolute darling,” she says, glancing at Isaac, who grins at her as if she’s an old friend.
Her eyes rake me up and down, and I realize that I still have on my apron.
“Well, thanks for watching him. I was making dinner, and I realized I couldn’t hear him playing out front.” I’m blabbering.
“That’s fine. We had a good time getting to know each other.”
She has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. I’m about to excuse myself and Isaac when I realize how rude it is to just leave without inviting her in.
“Would you like to join us for dinner?” I really want her to say yes. Something about the softness in her face makes me think she’d make a good dinner companion. I almost laugh at myself. Plain lust is making me poetic. She’s hot, and I wouldn’t mind spending the next hour ogling her sexy body.
She shakes her head, and disappointment floods me. “Thanks, but I’m afraid I can’t. Lots of unpacking to do. I just moved in today.”
“Well, it’s a standing invitation. Whenever you’re free, let us know. We are a friendly neighborhood.”
Too friendly, I think to myself as I remember my ex-wife and Mike. I push away the thought, but it has already soured my mood.
“Say thank you, Isaac,” I say.
