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“Stop it,” Sophie sighs. “I’m not looking for a man, and you know it.”
“You could do worse,” says Katie, her eyes flicking up and down my body. They’re talking about me like I’m not even here.
I suddenly feel bad for every woman who’s ever been talked about like this while they haven’t been in the room — and, worse, when theyhave.
Fortunately, Sophie chooses this moment to change the subject. “So how areyouguys doing?” she asks, crouching down to the kids’ level. Their blank stares morph into delighted grins and they both jump up to wrap their arms around Sophie’s neck.
I find it difficult to age children, but I’m guessing they must be about four and five, maybe five and six. Either way, they seem much more well behaved than Jason’s are.
“This morning, when the sun came out, Joey absolutely begged me to come and play on the swings,” Katie says, reaching out to ruffle her son’s hair. “As you know, it’s impossible to say no to them when they give you those cute little eyes, and when Mandy got swings in her head too, well…” She shrugs. “It was inevitable.”
“Of course,” agrees Sophie. I nod along with the conversation, not sure what they’re talking about at all anymore. “These guys have you absolutely wrapped around their little fingers,” Sophie laughs, pulling them in for a hug again.
“Mommy never lets us come play on the swings,” huffs Joey, folding his arms.
His sister mirrors him exactly, to an almost creepy degree. “We love the swings.”
“Who doesn’t?” says Sophie.
Me, I want to mutter. But I keep that one to myself.
“So,” says Katie. “Don’t think I don’t notice you avoiding the question. How come you’re here? With a stroller?”
Sophie and I share an awkward look before she confesses. “We’ve brought the kids out to the playground too. You can see them just over there, three of them.” Then she leans closer to me, making a static shock prickle between us. “Oh, Lucas, it looks like Chloe is about to push Noah off the swing.”
I look over and sigh as I see that she’s right. Typical — I take my eye off them for four seconds, and they're trying to find new and creative ways to damage themselves.
Somehow, Katie’s smirk twists into something even more wicked. “Look at you, Soph. You’ve got the manandthe kids. Looks like you’re living your dream life.”
“I’m not her man!” I snap. “And they’re not my kids.”
Katie recoils a little at this. I wince internally. That’s another expression I've seen on her sister recently. This is going all wrong. The last thing I wanted was to make a bad first impression on Sophie’s family. But I wasn’t expecting to meet any of them yet. I was expecting to at least bring Sophie onside before going any further and straying into meeting the family territory.
In an act of desperation, I shout out to the kids, “Hey, Chloe! Bring the others over here. There’s some people I’d like you to meet.”
Chloe shakes her head at me, and for a second I think she’s going to disobey. That would be about typical for her. But for once,she listens, rounds up her siblings and herds them over like a sheepdog. I wouldn’t be surprised if she started actually nipping at their ankles.
Jason’s three kids line up in front of Katie’s two and they square off like they’re about to start a football game. I panic for a second that some actual tackling is about to take place at the way they’re all looking at each other with a childishly rugged determination. But then Katie breaks the tension, saying, “This is Mandy and Joey. Who are you guys?”
Always the ringleader, Chloe introduces herself and then points at and names her siblings as well.
“Do you want to play on the swings?” pipes up Noah.
“Of course,” says Mandy.
“Why else would we have come?” adds Joey, finishing her sentence.
Sophie chuckles at them all. “Go on, guys. Go and have some fun.”
Katie’s two race across the grass towards the playground, followed quickly by Chloe who drags Ava behind her. But Noah hesitates. “Uncle Lucas?” he says, blinking up at me with his big eyes. “Will you come and push us on the swings, please?”
I sigh. Why is it so impossible to say no to him? It should be possible to say no to a child. It’s not like they can do anything in response except cry.
But he blinks at me again and his lip wobbles and I hear myself saying, “All right. But not for very long.”
Noah cheers, takes my hand and drags me away. I try to ignore the strange dampness of it, quashing any thoughts of what it could be, and lose myself in the game of it all. After all, I don’t want Katie to think anything else bad of me.
I’m off to a bad start, but there’s still time to impress. There’s time to fix it.
