But I do. “Would you like to go out to dinner tonight? We can take Laurel with us.”
“Out? To dinner?”
“Like a date. Husbands and wives are supposed to spend time together.”
“We spend all day together.”
“I know.” I’m pressuring her. “It was just a thought,” I say quickly. “Here, you take it. Why don’t you call up one of the people you mentioned from the library and go have a girls’ night? Libby, or Vanessa, or Sophie? It’s the least I can do. It’s a cash card, so you can use it anywhere.”
Imogene hesitates. “Can I dress up if we go out?” she whispers.
“Yes! Yes, absolutely. We could go to the nice Italian place by the market? Or the River House?”
“Ooh!” Imogene lets out a high-pitched, breathy noise. “Would it be like a date?”
I nod slowly.Please let this be the right thing, the answer she wants.
“We don’t have to go out to do that. We could save the money and have dinner at home. I borrowed a cookbook from the library. I’m not sure what all the things are, and I don’t know where to find them in the store, but—”
“Here’s a deal. We go out tonight to the restaurant, and tomorrow night, we cook a recipe together. We’ll go shopping in the morning before I have to support that new hoagie shop integration.”
“What else can we do on a date at home?” Imogene asks, eyes sparkling, smile a mile wide at the prospect of spending time with me—me!
“We could stream a movie. Play a game.”I could kiss you. I could teach you that not all people want to hurt you. I could kiss every part of you until you’re melting in my arms, all happy and safe. Until you say you’ll never leave.
“I... I’ve seen people play games, but I’ve never played one. I know how to do word searches and puzzles,” Imogene says.
Anger wells up in me. Not at her. But it’s the way she had so little, and she admits her limitations so fearlessly, and to me—they’re just poof of how fucking brave she is.
I’m so stupidly head over heels in love with this heroic, gorgeous woman, the woman who is willing to protect my daughter and be the mother of my child.
So stupid that I stand up suddenly, in her space, and just—can’t speak. Can’t do anything but lean forward and kiss her, way harder than I should have.
“You are soperfect. So brave, and so good at everything, and so effingsmart, Imogene. You’re magical, and I don’t mean because of your bloodlines; I mean because you learn so fast, you do so much. With nothing. I’m sorry I kissed you. I didn’t mean to. I mean, I shouldn’t have, but I—”
Baby still on her hip, she leans forward and up, and kisses me, too. Kisses me back, soft, swift, and shy, and leaves me crashing back into my chair, panting like something way more erotic happened than just a kiss. But I guess when you’re with the right person, even a kiss can knock your socks off.
Imogene slowly slides from the room. “What time is our date?” she asks.
Since we’re bringing a baby with us, which is not the most ideal thing for romance, I have to pick a time when she’s likely to sleep peacefully through the meal, even though that means going during her nap or waking her up to resettle her when we get home. “I was thinking 7:30?”
“Perfect.”
I HAD MY FIRST KISS. Two kisses. One from him. One I gave back.
I want to call Libby, but she thinks Artie and I are already married. I decide to call Lesha once I’m out of the house and somewhere I can squeal like a giddy idiot.
When I take Laurel to the park, all bundled up and snug in her stroller, I’m floating on air, planning what to wear, and getting to talk on a cell phone like a normal person with a life and friends. And maybe a boyfriend. A husband soon.
“Hello?”
“Lesha? I-It’s Imogene.” We’ve moved from texting in the college’s messaging program to texting on the phone, but this is the first time I’ve called her.
“Imogene! Hi! Oh, my God, are you okay? Are you in trouble?”
“What? No! I’m the opposite. I’m wonderful.”
Lesha yells something that crackles out, but I don’t think it was to me. In a second, her voice is clearer. “Hi, girl. I’m on break now. I’m at work.”
