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I take mine and sip from it. “Mm, it’s good.”
Carl does likewise, and we both savor the wine for a moment, sitting side by side to unwind after a long day. It’s almost like when we were married, but without the fraught expectations that tore us apart. I don’t want to think about what we can’t have. Better to bask in what we do share.
“I have style.” I set my glass on a coaster and flop dramatically across Carl’s lap. He curls his knees up to prop his feet on the table and cradle me there. Then he runs his fingers through my hair. I’ve come to accept the premature graying and I like that Carl calls it distinguished.
Carl gives me all the sweet affection I can’t let myself have with anyone else without sending mixed signals. We might not fit together in any traditional relationship sense or in bed, but cuddling on his couch I feel utterly content. With Carl, it’s safe to let my guard down and love with all of myself.
“Uh huh, I bet I’m going to have to drag you away from the sad beige baby aisle when we go shopping for Gail and Marcus’s baby shower.” Carl is smiling down at me and for a brief second, I miss the days when I could kiss that smile, but it’s a fleeting thought. We don’t kiss because it means very different things to Carl than it does to me and we don’t work that way.
“Sad beige babies?” I repeat, teasing him.
“Yeah, it’s a whole thing. Gail’s been sending me nursery inspo since she found out about the baby. You seriously haven’t seen the hashtag?”
“Um, no, because babies are sticky little monsters and I don’t hang out on parenting TikTok or wherever you find that crap.” I wave away Carl’s assumptions that I would know anything about parenting hashtags.
It’s not like I hate children. I just don’t spend time with them outside of Carl’s niece. And probably this new nibling of his once they’re born. I’ve seen Angel’s kids at Carl’s family gatherings since they’re Marcus’s niblings. I’m sure they’re great, but I am not crossing the kinds of lines with Angel it would take to become involved in their kids’ lives. And I keep circling back to thoughts of them when I came here not to worry about what we’re doing and the messages I’m sending.
“They’re cute.” Carl points out. “And the hashtag is pretty funny. You’d be totally into a sad beige nursery.”
“Uh, huh? How does a sad beige baby even sound?”
Carl scrunches up his face in a ridiculous imitation of a bawling baby. “You know, sad.”
I can’t suppress my grin at that. I let out a guffaw and pat at his bushy, bearded cheek in a conciliatory gesture. “Don’t quit your day job to become an actor, babe. That was awful.”
“Well, I wouldn’t try out for a baby role.”
“Are baby rolls like lobster rolls?”
“No, baby rolls are their cute little chubby rolls of totally pinchable fat.”
“Gotcha, so you like to pinch and eat babies.” I nod sagely at him. As though I’m not being totally ridiculous. I have to bite my cheek to keep a straight face.
“No.” Carl swats at my chest. “I didn’t say any of that. You are a menace.”
“You totally did. I’m telling Gail.”
Carl rolls his eyes at me. “You can’t distract me forever. What had you so sad on my doorstep?”
“Nothing. I just wanted company tonight.” And if I have a twinge of wishing that company was the sweet little snack who fell asleep with my mouth on their bits earlier and slept in my arms like I was the safest place on the planet, well, that doesn’t take anything away from the way I feel about Carl.
My love for him is as steady and true as the tides ebbing and flowing through every season of our lives. Whatever delusions I have about a future with Angel will pass. They’ll have to when Angel is ready to move on because they have time to pursue someone who can be everything they need and deserve. I’ll bow out gracefully when that day comes, the same as I will when Carl finds the man who will sweep him off his feet. And in the meantime, I’ll enjoy what I have with each of them for as long as it lasts.
Carl draws me out of my maudlin thoughts with his fingers massaging my scalp. “I am always down to cuddle; you know that isn’t ever going to change, right?”
“I do,” I lie through my teeth with a tight smile and then I change the subject. “Tell me about bingo night? Or are there any new prospects for getting me out of those pesky alimony payments?”
Our divorce was entirely amicable. There is no court-ordered alimony between us, even though he supported me through law school. So I’ve always made sure he’s taken care of, despite his occasional protests.
I invested in getting his non-profit off the ground. I made sure he could afford his share of the mortgage when we bought this place so we could always live close together and be involved in each other’s lives. And I put aside alimony payments for him every month because I always want him to be financially secure.
He’s still my life partner, even if he isn’t my romantic partner or lover. And teasing him about getting out of those payments is my way of telling him I support his search for the next great love of his life.
Carl gives me a searching look. He’s wise to all my tricks; that’s the problem with loving your best friend. But he doesn’t call me on my bullshit, and I enjoy hearing about his day and a guy he’s been flirting with online. We snuggle and share another glass of wine each while we chat. I end up sleeping over at his place, both of us fully clothed under his homey quilt and a downy duvet. It’s totally platonic, and exactly what I need to ground me.
Chapter 4
Angel (October 9th, 2023)
