“No, no, don’t worry. Have a seat. Or.” She snaps her fingers and seems outwardly flustered, but I keep the comment about that to myself. “Do you need a drink? There’s iced tea in the fridge.”
Thinking this will give me something to do, I get out two glasses and fill them with ice. Birdie moves around me like we’ve done this a thousand times, which we have, and doesn’t say much about me getting us both a glass of tea. I also grab a cup with a lid and straw, knowing exactly where Birdie keeps Rora’s things, and slip a few pieces of ice into it before pouring some root beer into the cup.
We work around each other in tandem, each anticipating what the other needs, and without her asking, I help her finish up dinner while Rora talks my ear off about everything I missed.
She tells me about her most recent adventure, which was a school field trip to a local firehouse where she got to sit in a fire engine and run the siren. I, without lyingwhatsoever, told her that that may be the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.
She also tells me about going to dinner with her grandparents the other night and how she asked them when we could all go on the boat again, to which they informed her we were still a couple months away, to which she asked why we couldn’t go ice fishing on the boat.
It was a very entertaining conversation.
It’s after we’re already sitting at the table, conversation flowing mostly from Rora, that I realize Birdie and I have barely spoken a word. She planned this on purpose, letting Rora take the lead tonight and making it so she doesn’t have to talk to me.
This puts a piece of lead in my gut and makes me wonder if this wasn’t some consolation prize—some weird way to invite me back in just to make me feel better, rather than her wanting me to be here.
It’s smart to have Rora be the icebreaker, because we literally don’t have a moment to talk with how much she needs to say and catch me up on.
I don’t mind it, I don’t mind talking to her at all. I hope I have the privilege to talk with her the rest of my life.
I would just feel better about it if Birdie and I were on good terms.
After dinner, it’s later than usual, and we start Rora’s bedtime routine. I don’t ask if I can stay because Rora obviously thinks it’s just the way it’s supposed to be, and Birdie doesn’t make any comments about me leaving or staying, so I just go with the flow.
We help her with her teeth, and I start the dishes while Birdie helps her with other things, like getting in pajamas.
“Derek, will you read to me?”
Her little voice reaches me, and I turn off the water, wiping my hands on a dishrag to dry them and smiling at her. “Of course, I will.”
Birdie smiles at me from where she stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall, and we both follow Rora into her room and watch as she climbs into bed, snagging both of her favorite elephants and snuggling into her bed with them. “Okay, ready!”
I chuckle and move by her bed, grabbing the book off the nightstand, and am surprised when Birdie sits next to me on the ground, content to settle in and let herself be read to just like her daughter.
Starting the story, in the dim light of her nightstand light, I let my voice echo into the room. It takes no time at all forher little head to prop itself onto my shoulder. Her fingers find my ear, and she rubs it absentmindedly.
I nearly choke up when she does, but what practically undoes me, is when I feel Birdie’s head come to rest against my shoulder and my girls have welcomed me back into their life again.
Yesterday, I spent the day thinking of every grand gesture in the book. I was trying to find something, anything that would show Birdie I was here for her, that I love her, and that I want her to forgive me, because being apart from them both was quite literally killing me.
Not knowing what they were doing, how they were, or how Rora’s school days were going. Not knowing if Trip was still hitting on Birdie at work, even though she made it clear she was a taken woman. Not knowing if she was still thinking about a future with me, like I was thinking of a future with her.
All the unknowns have been eating me alive, and I was trying to make it better. Somehow.
But this… this right here, with my girls lying against me and all of us safe and sound in their home together, is making me feel damn near misty-eyed.
“Derek,” Birdie whispers in my ear, and I stop reading. It’s a wonder I managed to keep going at all and look at her.Her face is close to mine, and I have to resist every impulse I have to kiss her. It’s all I want to do.
“She’s asleep.” Her words snap me out of the trance I was in, and very carefully, I extract myself from Rora’s sleeping form, moving so I can rearrange her onto her bed safely.
We move out of her room, leaving the door open so we can hear her, and walk down the hallway. I’m waiting for the words, waiting to be kicked out and not get a chance to talk with Birdie about anything, when she reaches over and grabs my hand, pulling me to the couch.
I follow willingly, like the happiest dog on the planet, and settle onto the couch. Birdie moves close to me, slipping under my arm and allowing me the gift of getting to hold her again.
“I missed you.” Her words are muffled against my chest, and it aches painfully at her words.
I squeeze her tighter against me and let out a deep-seated breath. “I missed you, so much. I can’t even begin to explain it.”
For a moment, we’re quiet and just enjoying each other’s company, completely innocent in our actions and just… holding one another. My heart is beating so damn hard in my chest, like it’s excited about where we are, like it’s been waiting for this moment. I’ve been missing this for two weeks.
