“No,” I said, and left it at that. He didn’t need to know about my religious zealot parents and absent dad. “What about you? What are you doing? Any family coming in?”
“Not sure whether Sydney’s going to have these goobers,” he said, making a funny face at his kids, “but either way, we usually have a team dinner. One of my teammates had me to his house last year. Most of us don’t have family close and can’t go home.”
“Must be hard,” I said.
He shrugged. “It’s not really my holiday anyway. Canadian Thanksgiving isn’t that big a deal.”
“Oh, right. I forget yours is different.”
“You should come with us.”
I sputtered. “Oh, I couldn’t. I won’t barge in on somebody else’s party.”
He wrinkled his nose. “It’s a big loud bunch anyway.”
I lifted a corner of my lips. “Maybe.”
I was quiet for the rest of breakfast, and it seemed like Jack was letting me have my space.
It was a year full of firsts—first things alone. First things without Bryce.
Things weren’t great before he left, but I didn’t think they were bad enough for him to completely bail on us. He went to Nepal, and then I received papers a week later. No phone call to explain it. Just legal documents.
And then, I became the one and only for two kids who had a chance of turning out just like me.
Part of me thought that was the real reason he left: he’d have potentially three people with different physical needs. I get it. I didn’t sign up to have this disease. But I thought I was more than my disease. I know I am.
My eyes started to water, which surprised me. Two cries in the same twenty-four hours was rare. I usually only cried when I was in pain or frustrated if I didn’t sleep well.
Hazel brought me into the present, lunging at Jack. He took her with open arms. “Hey, Hazey Mazey,” he cooed. “Let’s wipe this little face.”
“Hazey Mazey, huh?” I asked, warmed by Jack’s budding connection with my daughter. “You two are becoming thick as thieves.”
“We’re buds, aren’t we?” he asked as she squirmed while he tried wiping her face. He softened her up with a little tickle and she crabbed at him all the same. “Oh, pfft yourself.”
She thought that was hilarious, laughing in his face.
“Watch it, kid. You’re going to make me like you.”
I sat, beaming. “I think you’ve already got him, Haze.”
Jack booped her nose. “Reminds me of when Harp was little. Friggin’ sweetie pies.”
I snuck out to the bathroom, and when I came back, Jack and Hazel were looking out the patio doors. There was a set of bird feeders that I’d missed the night before. “We have to be real quiet, Mazey,” he whispered. “Then the hummingbirds will come back.”
“Never thought you’d be a bird man,” I said.
“I never had pets growing up, so I learned birds. They’re like yard pets.”
He said it so casually, but something under there belied a desire, something he wanted but couldn’t have.
An hour later, when Jack dropped us off at my apartment, he carried Hazel’s car seat up the stairs while looking all stupid dapper in a suit again. Aspen skipped off into the house, but Jack lingered in the doorway. “Alright, well.”
“Thanks so much for having us. Aspen’s so happy.”
“It could be like this all the time, you know,” Jack tried.
I laughed and shook my head. “I barely know you.”
