His mood changes suddenly and he looks down at his hands, wringing his fingers together like a dishcloth.
“I miss Mommy. Can we go see her?”
“We can’t because you’re in school, but we can call Mommy any time you want. You know that, right?”
I try to put on a light and upbeat tone for him, but I don’t think I’m deceiving anyone here. Fran loves George, but she can get too stuck in her work and forget that her son needs regular contact.
“Daddy, I have something to tell you,” he says in a low voice.
“Okay, is it something you did?”
He nods.
“Do you think I’m going to be upset with you?”
“I don’t know.”
We’re sitting beside each other, so I pull him closer and wrap my arms around him.
“Whatever you have to tell me, remember I love you very much, okay? Even if I don’t agree with something, it doesn’t mean I will feel differently.”
He nods and gives me a tiny smile that reminds me so much of Fran whenever she was upset that her career as an artist wasn’t taking off.
“I took your phone the other day when you went to the shower, and I tried to call Mommy. When she answered, there was a lot of noise on the other side. She sounded angry and said some bad words. I was afraid she was angry with me, so I hung up. Do you think Mommy is angry that I called?”
“No, buddy. I can guarantee she’s not. Mommy loves you as much as I do. Maybe she was busy, and she thought I was the one calling. Do you remember I said that in Europe, the clocks show a different time?”
He nods. “I forgot, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
I kiss his head. “You did nothing wrong. We’ll call Mommy tomorrow so you can talk to her, okay?”
He’s a little quiet until Nona brings his pancakes, and then all is right in George’s world again.
While he’s tucking into his food, I take my phone out and send Fran a message that we’ll be calling tomorrow.
As I tuck into my omelet, I try to remember the last time we were all out together. It has been at least a year, which in terms of George’s development, is a long time.
I miss Fran too. She’s one of my best friends. When we had George, I knew what the deal was. I’ll have him at home while he’s in formal education, she’ll have him for school breaks, and once he’s old enough, he’ll travel with her.
Right now, I can’t imagine giving him up. Every day he grows older is a day closer to when I’ll be saying goodbye to seeing him every day, being part of his development, or seeing him become an amazing young man. It’s selfish to want to keep him. After all, Fran is his mom.
“Megan!” George shouts with his mouth full, which takes me by surprise, and I almost drop my phone on my food.
I look up and see Megan running over to us, with Harrison following on her heels.
“Hi Gigi,” Megan says, sitting in front of George. “I’m going to have pancakes too.”
“Megan, let George and his dad have their meal. We need to get our own table.”
“But, Daddy,” she grumbles.
I gesture to the empty seat opposite me. “Would you like to join us?”
Harrison seems to think about it for a moment, but it’s clear the kids aren’t budging.
“Sure, thank you for having us. Megan?”
“Oh yeah, thank you for letting us join you.”
