I unfold the napkin that had been covering her muffin, and hold it in front of her so she can see. “In the mood for some lemon blueberry streusel?”
A soft “mmmmm” leaves her lips, her telltale sign that she’s interested.
I dice up the muffin, pour a little bit of milk into the bowl and let the liquid soak into the muffin, softening it until it resembles the consistency of oatmeal, and is safer for her to eat.
“Jackson has been loving T-ball,” I tell her, filling the silence. “I have more pictures and some videos to show you when we’re done. Oh, and the stupid feral cat is coming around more.” The other afternoon Jackson stepped out onto the patio while Clementine was basking in the sun. She stared, her tail slowly swishing back and forth, assessing his every move as he sat next to her. He didn’t touch her, but she didn’t run, so that’s progress made.
I squish the muffin with my spoon, and once satisfied with the texture, I raise it to her lips for a bite. She chews slowly, savoring the taste when her eyes flutter and she nearly moans.
“Good shit, right?” I chuckle, continuing to feed her bite for bite, sitting in comfortable silence, until the muffin is nearly gone.
“I, um…I think I met someone.” Well, I know I’ve met someone, but it feels weird to say I’ve met Jim when we’ve known each other for a while now.
Marissa’s head tilts to the side, brows slightly raised at my comment.
“I shouldn’t say I met him. I’ve known him for a while. His name is Jim. He’s friends with Ryan and Lainey, so we’ve been in the same circle for a while…but I feel like lately I’m really noticing him.”
She polishes off the last of the muffin, and I offer her a drink from her cup. Once satisfied, I set the empty dishes on the table.
I reach for her hand, running my palm over the back of her smooth skin. “Missy,” I whisper, blowing out a heavy breath. “It’s scary to actually like someone.” To like someone who isn’t already halfway out the door. To like someone that’s ready to take the next step with me.
Her fingers twitch, hand shaking in mine so I roll her palm over, clasping her hand firmly to lessen the tremors. “You’ll love him. He’s so good with Jackson. And with me. I think…I think this is the first time I’m me, the good and the ugly, and he likes me anyways. He isn’t even trying to change me. Weird, hey?”
I finally break eye contact from our intertwined fingers and look up at her. Her beautiful blue eyes, the exact same shape and crystal hue as Jackson’s stare back at me. She waits for a moment, then slowly rolls her eyes to the side, the little brat poking fun at me.
“Are you making fun of me for being scared?” I tease, wiggling the hand I’m still holding.
A heavy puff of air comes from her nose, which is the only response I need.
“I know. Ugh, this is so weird. You’d think this is one area I’d be confident in, but I’m clueless on what to do with an actual good guy.” Most men I have met in my life have left me disappointed. From my biological father, who I have no memory of, to Jackson’s dad who decided he wasn’t worth meeting, to Marcus, that asshole, and the slew of dates that were scattered along the way. All of them took one look at me and my little family, and decided we weren’t worth keeping around. Then along came Jim, and his promise to stay in Jackson’s life even if he and I didn’t work out has been ringing in my ears for a month.
“Jim is taking me and Jackson to a Cubs game this Sunday, but guess what? He’s made arrangements so that next Thursday we are bringing you to Jackson’s T-ball game.” He found a transportation company that was willing to work evenings. The weather is supposed to be beautiful, the skies will be clear. It will be the perfect day to show Marissa how much Jackson loves playing ball.
Her upper lip quivers, and I know it’s her attempt at a smile. I bring her hand to my mouth, kissing the back of her hand obnoxiously. “I’m so excited to have you there. And to meet Jim. You’re going to love him.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Mom!” Jackson shouts from the living room. “Jim’s here!”
“Shit,” I mumble under my breath as I rifle through my drawers, trying to find a Cubs T-shirt that doesn’t make me look like a stuffed sausage. I throw on my favorite worn white one, sucking in my stomach as I smooth the fabric over the top of my jeans.
Not good, not great. But I don’t feel like wearing Spanx to a Cubs game.
“Mom!” Jackson shouts again.
“Can you let him inside, honey? I’ll be right out!”
I take a final look in the mirror, shrug to myself, and pull my hair out of its messy mom bun, opting for a thick braid that I can pull over my shoulder. The tail of my braid falls at my breasts, and I flip the end up to inspect the crispy split ends. “It’s definitely time for a trim.”
Moving over to my closet, I reach for my one-and-only ball cap and slip it on, deciding at the last minute to grab a pair of earrings. Gold hoops can fix nearly any outfit.
I inspect myself from all sides, making sure I look halfway decent enough for today, when I take a full step back and catch a look from the side.
Damnit. I slap a hand over my gut, sucking my belly in and holding, wishing I could maintain that position all day. These pants used to be the ones that fit the best, but today they might as well be spandex. I should have skipped breakfast today, and yesterday, and the last three days if I expected to fit into tight clothes. Or I should have gone shopping, sized up in a new shirt to give myself a little more wiggle room.
This shirt was probably too tight six months ago, and I haven’t stepped on a scale in about that much time. The end of my braid might as well be an arrow, pointing directly to my gut with an evil laugh. I let out a rough exhale, leaning forward to rest my palms on the front of my dresser. Letting my head fall, I stretch out the kink in my neck as I debate faking a migraine and sending Jim and Jackson on their way without me.
“Mom!” Jackson screeches again. I push off of the dresser and flick off the light switch before moving down the hall.
