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“I’m impressed,” I admit. Angie is squeezing the scoop, but not quite getting it all the way, so Benji is helping. Laura supervises, but she’s not doing a great job because the kitchen is a mess. Somehow, I just don’t care.
Laura is so pretty.
It’s annoying to think. I want to stop being affected by her. I want to move on. Of course, I never dreamed I’d move on while we were here, surrounded by my family… our family…
But I had hoped I wouldn’t be so…
Smitten, I suppose.
Laura’s changed into pajamas. Her pants are too long, and they cover the tops of her feet. There are little pine trees on them. The shirt she’s wearing is worn, the letters on them nearly impossible to read. There’s a hole in the collar. I want to press my finger to it. Not to make it wider. Just to feel the heat of her collarbone, the soft velvet of her skin.
Her hair is in a messy bun. Her cheeks are pink, possibly from the heat of the kitchen or from the laughter. Maybe she’s just pink today.
“Look at you,” Jessi says. She covers her mouth with her hand, eyes twinkling. “You aresogone.”
“Oh, no…” I turn fully. I don’t want to watch Laura bake these cookies anymore.
Jessi laughs. For some reason, it stings.
“I’m going to go for a walk,” I say. They look up, but no one really does much besides nod and wave at me. I go get dressed, passing the kitchen once more. Everyone is laughing.
This could’ve been my family.
This could’ve been my every day.
Except better. If things were different, I could walk in there right now. I could wind an arm around Laura’s waist. I could kiss her—her cheek, her forehead, her lips. I could press my lips, closed and casual, against the top of her shoulder, covered by that ratty t-shirt. We could split a cookie, hip to hip, smiling about something that we both barely remember the context of.
The air is cool, but the sun is shining. We’re only here for two days, so there’s no real time to explore the entire area. It’s just as well—as nice as I find it, I know I am a city man at heart. Already, I’ve warned the kids not to leave the front yard without one of us adults. The lake that is down over the hill is still half-frozen from the winter, and I have had more than a few stern talkings with Benji and Angie about staying away from it.
But they’re not with me, so I walk down, and sit at the bench beside the water for a little while.
My nose gets cold first, then my fingers, and then my toes, and I decide that I’ve been gone for long enough.
I can hear everyone’s chattering and laughter before I even pull the front door open. Twin pillars of joy and sorrow fill me as I yank it open, slipping inside.
No one looks up, too engrossed in the card tower the kids are building, and I take a moment to recenter myself.
Laura slips into the kitchen, holding an empty mug. Seeing my chance, I dart in after her.
She’s beautiful, and it momentarily distracts me. I think, once, a bit harsh and accusatory,this is why I had to say yes to transferring to a different continent, and then I remember that it’s not Laura’s fault I find her so mesmerizing, and I put the thought aside.
“Can we talk?” I ask, grabbing her elbow lightly.
I make sure not to grab her too tight or to raise my voice. I know she’s upset… about something… and I want to keep the peace the best that I can.
Of course, keeping the peace would be easier if Laura wouldtellme why she’s so mad. I know it has to do with France, but the specifics are entirely lost on me.
Laura gives me a displeased sigh. She looks around, but there’s no one—no kid or sibling or ex-wife to save her from a conversation. I wait. Although my pulse is so loud it might as well be on the stereo, I keep my face as passive as I can.
Laura sighs. She tugs her arm free, crossing both of them in front of her chest.
“Fine,” she allows. She seems annoyed, but this is the most open I’ve seen her, so I grasp onto it.
I’m nervous, but I know better than to let this opportunity pass.
“You seem… angry with me,” I surmise.
“Astute,” she sniffs.
