“Friday it is,” I confirm, trying to ignore how pleased I am that she’s going out with her female friend instead of on a date.
“Are you sure about this?” Alexa asks one more time. “Ash can be a handful, and adding Henry to the mix…”
“Mom,” Ash interrupts with the long-suffering tone only a nine-year-old can master. “I’m not a handful. I’m a treat.”
“Youarea treat,” I agree, making Ash grin. “And I’m looking forward to hanging out with you.”
The sound of a car honking outside signals Mr. Johann’s arrival. Ash quickly gathers his comics and backpack, gives Henry a gentle pat on the head, and waves goodbye.
“Have a good day at school,” Alexa calls after him as he heads out the door.
Once it’s just the three of us, a comfortable quiet settles over the house. Henry plays contentedly with a straw and a spoon while Alexa tidies up the coffee table where Ash had spread his comics.
“So,” I say, trying to sound casual as I pour myself another cup of coffee, “do you actually go on dates? I mean, when you’re not working or taking care of Ash?”
Alexa pauses in her tidying, and I see something shift in her expression. “Not really, no. I haven’t dated since…” She trails off, then seems to decide to finish the thought. “Since I was with Ash’s father. So…” Her laugh is dry. “Nine years ago.”
“That’s a long time,” I observe, immediately regretting how that sounds. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business.”
“It’s okay.” She sits down on the couch, her movements careful and deliberate. “What about you? I’m sure you must have women lining up to date the successful doctor.”
I laugh, but just like with her, there’s no humor in it. “Not really. I don’t date much either these days.”
“Why not?”
The question catches me off guard, and I find myself being more honest than I intended. “The risk feels too high.”
“What do you mean by that?”
I realize what I’ve just revealed, and heat creeps up my neck. I mean that I don’t want to risk my heart. I mean that getting close to someone, caring about them, opens you up to the possibility of losing them. I mean that I’ve seen what love can do when it’s taken away, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to survive that kind of loss.
But I can’t say any of that. Not to Alexa, who’s looking at me with genuine curiosity and concern.
“I just mean…” I scramble for a safer explanation, suddenly very interested in my coffee mug. “My schedule is demanding. Long hours, emergency calls. It’s not fair to ask someone to deal with that uncertainty.”
It’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the whole truth either. Alexa studies my face for a moment, and I have the uncomfortable feeling that she can see right through my deflection.
“Right,” she says finally, but her tone suggests she doesn’t quite buy my explanation.
“Should we take Henry for a walk?” I suggest, desperate to change the subject. “The weather looks nicer now, and he might enjoy some fresh air.”
“That sounds perfect,” she agrees. Though I catch her giving me one more thoughtful look before she stands to get Henry ready.
It strikes me that I’ve never spent time alone with a child before, never been responsible for entertaining a nine-year-old for an entire evening. But somehow, the prospect doesn’t scare me the way it would have a few weeks ago.
Maybe because Ash doesn’t feel like just any kid. He feels like family.
The thought should worry me more than it does. Getting attached to Alexa and Ash when my life is in such chaos seems like a mistake. But I can’t seem to stop myself from caring about them, from wanting to be part of their world.
Even if I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stay in it.
Even though I know it’s built on secrets I can’t keep forever.
Even though every phone call from the hospital reminds me that this perfect little bubble could burst at any moment.
For now, it’s enough to watch Alexa bustle around, packing things for the walk. It’s enough to feel Henry relax in my arms like I’m someone he trusts.
It’s enough to believe, for a few hours at least, that this could be my real life instead of just a temporary reprieve from everything that’s falling apart.
