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I’d be a monster if I didn’t acknowledge the work. “This is incredible,” I tell him as I set the basket on the kitchen counter. We can both hear Elliot cheering from the living room in a variety of made-up sounds and noises like he’s some kind of fluffy space robot that’s about to get decommissioned. He’s so funny without even realizing it. “It really is incredible… All these foods that I love. You must’ve taken a while to put it all together, Todd. Thank you, really.”
“Actually, Piper twisted Vincent’s arm for most of the intel and got the rest from your public social-media profiles. It’s amazing what a little research can do these days,” he says. “Speaking of, I’d love to meet the little guy making those sounds. My faux son.”
We both laugh lightly, but I can sense the awkwardness as I have Todd follow me into the living room, where Elliot is pretty much ready to jump out of his pen. The first encounter is rather quiet. When my son sees Todd, he shuts down almost immediately, reaching out for me to take him up in my arms.
“Momma,” he says. “Momma…”
“Elliot, this is Todd,” I reply, scooping the little guy from his pen. “Todd is my friend.”
“Hey there, buddy!” Todd says, beaming like a star as Elliot looks up at him.
There is something about my son that has everybody melting, always, without exception. I don’t know if it’s some kind of accelerated cuteness factor or something along those lines, but he is an instant hit with everybody.
“Todd,” Elliot says, his pink lips circled around the vowel. “Todd…” He pats his little chest and reaches out his tiny hand. “Elliot. Nice to… nice to…”
“Nice to meet you,” Todd replies, shaking his tiny hand.
It makes my son smile with such gushing joy, I can almost feel his heart exploding within mine and I find myself amazed by the effect that Todd, of all people, seems to have on him. My son isn’t usually this warm and friendly with men, having thus far been surrounded mostly by the women in my family. Yet here he is, melting in my arms as he holds on to Todd’s hand.
“Todd. Nice to meet you,” my boy manages, then looks at me with a stern gaze. “Mommy’s friend.”
“That’s right, honey,” I reply.
“I’m hungry,” he says.
It makes Todd laugh. “Yeah, I’m hungry too, buddy. Why don’t we dig into that gift basket while we’re here. I’m dying to try some of those fancy cheeses your momma loves so much.”
“You can have your creamy polenta tonight,” I tell Elliot, then look at Todd. “It’s cooling on the stove. I can offer you some if you’d like.”
“Will it work with the cheese?”
“Most definitely.”
“Then yes please, ma’am!” Todd says.
“Yes please, ma’am!” Elliot mirrors him perfectly.
Yeah, I’m in for one hell of an evening, it seems. Todd didn’t come here to woo me, but woo me he has with that badass gift basket. Elliot didn’t expect to swoon over a stranger in our house, but swooning he is and already parroting the guy with loving mimicry. And I reckon I’ll be falling before the whole business deal is done and dusted. Iknowit now. I feel the disaster already unfurling in the pit of my stomach, in the form of ephemeral sweetness and delicious dreams that I’ll be sorry to wake up from in the morning.
* * *
Dinner is simple and fun. I tell Todd more about myself and my family, about Luke and Elliot, as well. He listens in respectful silence throughout most of the meal, occasionally chiming in with questions, including an inquiry about Luke’s last known whereabouts.
“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. He’s been out of our lives for a long time now, and he has never bothered to come meet Elliot,” I say, adding another scoop of warm polenta to Elliot’s plate. It’s a yellowy mess, but at least he’s eating well and loving the sprinkle of pecorino cheese and the dollop of sour cream on top. “Gosh, you sure love your dairy, don’t you?”
“Like his momma,” Todd chuckles lightly. But his humor is quick to fade as he goes back to the topic at hand. “I’m sorry about what happened with Luke; it couldn’t have been easy going through with all of this on your own.”
“It wasn’t, but I got lucky with Mom and my two sisters,” I reply.
My plate is loaded with some of the delicacies from the gift basket, while Todd has barely nibbled through a few pieces of gorgonzola and rosé grapes. There is obvious tension in his broad shoulders, and I’m guessing it’s first-play-date jitters, so to speak. He keeps pushing a piece of cheese with his fork, his gaze occasionally bouncing off mine when he isn’t smiling at Elliot or talking to him.
“Even so, I applaud you for your strength and resilience,” Todd says. Our eyes meet for a moment while Elliot gets busy inhaling the rest of his cheesy polenta. He was absolutely hungry, a natural side effect of staying up past his usual bedtime. “Not everybody can pull it off, and I see you have raised a fine young little man here…”
“Thank you, I guess.”
“Don’t guess. Own it, Becky,” he says firmly. “I may have lied about having a family, but I recognize the hard work that goes into building and raising one. I saw my parents do it, I saw my uncles and aunts, too, but they all had full units. You’ve been on your own, and still, it seems to me that Elliot isn’t missing anything in his life.”
I offer a meek nod, touched by his words. “I’ve done my best to make sure he never feels the need for another parent figure. It’ll get harder once he goes to kindergarten and he sees kids who have two parents, but it’s a bridge I’m ready to cross later. I’m enjoying him as much as I can right now, just the way he is.”
