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“I have a bottle of wine,” he suggests hesitantly. “Or some beers…”
I’m tempted, but something in me resists. I’m not ready to let go that much. “A glass of water is fine, thanks.”
“Okay.”
Soon enough we’re all seated around the little table, burgers with all the fixings in front of us. The sky is now the color of burnt orange, the air still warm but holding the faint promise of evening chill. It’s the middle of May, everything is in Technicolor, and I am eating a burger with someone I could potentially call a friend.
I never expected to be here, in so many ways.
“Dig in,” Andrew says cheerfully, and so we do.
The burger is juicy and delicious, and for a little while we just eat, happy to enjoy our meal. Jake is nibbling the edge of his bun, his eyes wide as he keeps darting me glances. I smile at him, trying to help him relax.
“So I guess your house is identical to mine,” I say. I smile again at Jake. “Which bedroom is going to be yours?”
“The one at the back,” Andrew answers. There are three bedrooms upstairs, two big and one small. “I’ll use the little one for an office.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“And Jake’s going to have dinosaurs on his wall, right?” Andrew smiles at his son. “We’ve got some stencils we’re going to put on. Jake’s going to help me paint.”
I think of Emily’s room, with its pink princesses on the walls, the canopied bed. Although she was only in it for a few months, Emily loved that room. “Sounds great,” I tell Jake, and he gives me a slightly wider smile.
Andrew asks me about more local recommendations—the movie theatre, the library—and for a little while our conversation is innocuous, easy, or almost. I tell him about the farmer’s market in Wellesley, and the Hayfest at the Jackson Homestead and Museum. James and I took Emily there, when she’d just turned three. I remember sunshine and old-fashioned crafts and exhibits, sugary donuts and warm, spiced apple cider. A perfect family day.
I also remember noticing that she stumbled a bit, climbing over the bales of hay, but we didn’t pay much attention to it then. She was only three, after all. We had no idea what was ahead of us. I feel a longing for that innocence, even as I curse it.
“There’s a jazz festival in Newton, in September,” I tell Andrew. “Although I’ve never been to it, I hear it’s good. Really, there’s enough in the Newton area, you never even have to go into Boston, if you don’t want to.”
“This is an amazing area,” he agrees. “Worcester doesn’t have half as much.”
I smile politely, because I’ve never been there. I grew up in the Boston area, went to college here, made my life. I don’t know anything else.
“So,” Andrew asks when we are nearly done our burgers, “when does school get out?”
I put the remains of my burger down and wipe my ketchupy fingers on the paper towel he provided. Now is the time when I have to start explaining, and I don’t want to. “Actually,” I say as lightly as I can, “I’m taking this semester off.” He looks surprised, and a little guarded. “I have some… family issues I need to focus on.” I give him a fixed smile, but my eyes are saying no more questions, and thankfully Andrew understands that.
“It’s great you can do that,” he says after a moment. “Will you go back in the fall?”
I know James wants me to. “Maybe,” I tell him. “I’m thinking about it.”
He nods, and then Jake asks to be excused—so polite! —and runs off to the jungle gym again, even though it’s getting dark, and the little yard is full of shadows.
By silent agreement, Andrew and I start clearing the table. Inside the house is dim and he flicks on the lights.
“I hope we’re going to be happy here,” he says quietly as he starts to rinse the plate, his head lowered. “It seems like a good neighborhood.”
I know next to nothing about the neighborhood. “I think it is,” I venture.
“Jake hasn’t had an easy time,” Andrew continues, and I brace myself for some sharing. “I mentioned his mom left four months ago…”
“Yes…”
Andrew grimaces. “She just… went. We were having some problems beforehand—I was working too much, I know, trying to set up my own business, which failed. And Christina… she found motherhood hard, I guess.” I wait, tense, not entirely wanting to hear these confidences. Not wanting to be responsible for them. “But I thought we’d make it, you know? It didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary, what we were going through.” He glances at me, seeming to expect a response.
“Mm,” I say, and nod. I am out of my depth.
“Anyway, she went to Bali on a yoga retreat. I thought she needed some downtime, and Christina had always enjoyed that sort of thing. It was only meant to be for a week.” He sighs heavily. “But then she texted me to say she’d met someone, on the retreat. A guy named Rain.” A slight sneer to the word, which I understand. “And she ran off to Seattle to be with him, without even coming back to say goodbye to Jake.” He dumps some cutlery into the sink with a clatter. “That’s the part I can’t forgive.”
