“Blissful. All I missed was one night’s sleep. I think I’m getting old for this. How did you do it with Hope? Or was she a good sleeper?” Why did I ask that?
“Hope was a wonderful baby. I was a nut. After Ivy died, I was afraid all the time that I’d lose Hope too, which meant I didn’t sleep much. It gave me lots of time to code, though.”
Dash reaches out and slaps the keyboard. He lets out a loud gurgle.
“See? I told you…a natural.”
Babies slap things. It’s part of their learning process, but if he wants to believe that, who am I to change his mind? “That had to be hard.”
“It was.”
“Would you do it again?” Ugh! What is with me asking him all these personal questions? Max is going to think I’m flirting with him.
“If the right woman came along, I would. Though I would still worry.”
Losing her had to be devastating for him to carry the pain this long. “Ivy was your one?”
“I thought so at the time.”
What? “Did that change?”
“I don’t know. Maybe my perspective changed. If she hadn’t died, we’d still be together, and I’d still be madly in love with her.”
Any other woman will come in second to a dead woman.
“I thought you two might like some lunch.” Hope sets down two roast beef sandwiches. “The giardiniera on this is amazing. Enjoy.” She rushes off.
Max moves the computer to the side, but still in front of Dash. “These look good.”
“Ace roasts the beef for us twice a week. But we pickle the giardiniera in-house every week. And the horseradish comes from a family farm not too far away. They make it fresh a couple of times a year, then we mix it up into this spicy sauce.” And I’m babbling.
“Are they your recipes?” Max lifts half the sandwich up while deftly holding on to Dash.
“The giardiniera was originally Luisella’s, but I tweaked it a bit. I added some fresh lemon juice and a bit more smoked paprika.”
“Lemon. That’s what I’m tasting. It’s perfect.”
Dash reaches for Max’s food.
“Sorry, little guy. You’re not ready for this yet.”
Dash pouts like he understands the words Max said, but still reaches for the food.
“He’s probably ready for some lunch as well.”
“Second lunch, you mean. I fed him his first lunch an hour ago.” Max sets his sandwich down and slides it away from grasping little hands.
“He’s a growing boy. Here, I can feed him.”
Max doesn’t move to hand me the baby. Instead, he reaches inside the cooler in the diaper bag for the bottle I prepared this morning.
Dash starts bouncing around when he sees the bottle.
“Oh, can I feed him?”
How did Hope show up like that?
“Sure.” Max hands the baby over, who is already sucking down his meal like he’s been starved for a week. “Where were we?” He asks with a smile when Hope disappears with Dash.
