“Hi,” I answered, once I was certain my voice wouldn’t crack. “Come in.”
He stepped inside and looked around. He’d been here before so I didn’t know what he was thinking. Not much had changed other than I had a stuffed white lamb and blue and purple plastic mice with fuzzy tails scattered all over the floor. A new food and water dish on a mat in the kitchen.
Rocco was asleep on the bean bag chair, his favorite spot to curl into when he wasn’t sleeping on me.
“Did you have a nice time visiting with your family?”
He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Rebecca and I got into a fight. I apologized, but she was pretty icy to me the rest of the weekend. Good thing I bought her a house for her to retreat to.”
“What did you fight about?”
He bent down over Rocco and stroked him along the top of his ears. Rocco lifted his head for more contact, not shy about loving the attention no matter who it came from.
E.G. then sat down on the couch.
“You still have my bottle?” he asked.
I nodded and made my way to the kitchen. I poured him a drink and one for myself, even though I was still not a fan. It felt like I was going to need it. I came back from the kitchen and saw him staring at Rocco.
“Why did you pick the blind one?”
I handed him his glass and then stood awkwardly beside him as I sipped, then coughed on my own drink.
“He’s not totally blind. Just one bad eye. I was afraid he wouldn’t get adopted. Because he needed the surgery.”
“Why didn’t you get adopted?”
I blinked. It wasn’t a question I got asked a lot. People inside the system knew not to bring it up. Not being chosen into a family was always the elephant in the room for any foster kid.
People outside the system were always too afraid of the answer.
The simple answer was I didn’t know. The hard answer was the truth.
“My mom was addicted to drugs when she had me. I was a pretty sick baby. That’s what they told me, anyway. Apparently, there had been a couple who was going to adopt me, but they backed out when the doctor told them about the potential risks associated with my condition. But I’m happy to say, I proved them all wrong. I stand before you utterly healthy.”
He huffed. “Come sit with me.”
I did. I sat on the couch. Not pressed against him, but not very far away either.
“I missed you,” he said.
And my chest filled with the strangest ache I’d ever known. “I wasn’t entirely sure what this feeling was. I’ve never felt it before.”
“I never wanted to miss anyone again,” he admitted.
Like I had absolutely no control over it, I rested my head against his shoulder. He didn’t move and neither did I. We just sat there, my drink in my hands, while he sipped his. Rocco’s bigger-than-his-size kitten snoring was our soundtrack.
“Why did you ask me to stop by?” he asked after a while.
“You wanted to see the cat,” I told him. Except I knew it wasn’t true.
“Try again, Flowers.”
“Okay, maybe I wanted to see you. Not in the office, though. Here with me. That’s pretty messed up.”
“Yet, here I am. But if you want something else, you’re going to have to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”
His voice soft, but dark and intimate. Like it had already happened. Like I’d already asked him for what I wanted and he’d agreed.
