A chuckle booms out of me. “Oh man, I think I know where this is going. Open the lid and I’ll have my answer.”
Her face is etched in curiosity, and she peeks down as she opens the game. “Oh no, hell no.” Now my head lolls to the side, and I grin to myself. “It’s like a gazillion pieces. Cards, little figures, is that more figures but in different sizes?” She tips her head to the side to examine the contents. “This must take like an hour to set up.”
“So that’s a no?” I press.
Summer looks at me, horrified, before she closes the box again and sets it back in the cupboard. “We should probably stick to cards. That’s simple.”
Then my body stills again. “Cards,” I state, and my lips roll into my mouth.
It registers in her head. “Right. Cards.” This can’t keep happening. “We always used to play with Zac when we were teenagers…”
I say nothing.
“And when I was upset that my parents were divorcing during my last year of high school and I showed up to see Zac, my best friend, he wasn’t there, but you were…”
I stand and take a few steps when I see a shade of pain, though it’s not because of me. It’s because it makes her think of Zac, except laced with conflict. I touch her shoulder with my fingertips. “It’s okay, he won’t be angry if you remembermemories of you and me, or at least, that’s what I choose to tell myself, now.”
Her face softens when she looks at me, and she nods once in understanding. “I didn’t want to be alone. My brother was already about to finish college.”
I interrupt her. “Your brother always hated me, I’m sure of it.”
Summer snickers a laugh. “Keats? Well, maybe.” That’s a yes. Her face softens, with her eyes tipping up to meet my gaze. “Your parents were away, and we played cards. We kissed for the first time, and you held me while I was upset, and we slept in your bed. It was a blip, easy to forget and never act on again, a little secret but doable. Then years later, we discovered we were wrong.”
I remain composed. “Despite what happened down the road, it’s a bittersweet memory, and I’m not sure that’s so bad.”
Her pressed lips stretch in my favor. “You’re right.” But it takes only a few seconds for Summer to create space and begin to busy herself. I watch her as she ties up her hair, the slope of her neck taunting me. “You know, I think I forgot to get more oatmeal. Bo likes that with a little jam. I should find my keys and go to the grocery store.”
“Oh, yeah, totally,” I answer dryly.
She begins to walk in the direction of the living room but stalls and snaps her fingers in the air. “Shit. The neighbor will drop Bo off soon. I should probably…”
I step forward. “It’s fine. I’m here, and surely, I can handle that.” It’s clear that she needs some air and a moment away from the house.
She gives me an appreciative smile. “Okay, let’s consider it your trial on baby skills, except there can be no error.”
My cheeks rise from her humor that is blossoming back. “Noted.”
“Won’t be long.”
I nod and watch her walk out the door. Except, in a little while, she’ll walk right back in.
“Seriously?It’s an entire toy with many popping animal options, and you just want to focus on the lion for the hundredth time?” I tell my nephew as he sits up, continuing to press the button with the animal appearing before he closes the square again. Every time his giggle causes me to smile wider.
I’ve never really thought about kids in my life. It’s not that I’m against it. It just never got that serious with any woman that I’ve dated. My brother always wanted a wife, kids, dog, and a home that was more than just a house. Me? I guess I was still figuring it all out.
Bo lets out a yawn, and I feel like it’s a cue that at last the toy can take a rest. “Come on, buddy. Someone mentioned that you sleep a lot, and I’m not sure you’re supposed to sleep before dinner, so let’s just chill a little, okay?”
I pick him up in my arms and carry him to the sofa. Getting comfortable, I rest him against my chest, throw my feet up on the table—even though Summer hates it—and grab the nearby remote control to turn the television on to head straight to the sports channel. “A little hockey highlights to prepare you for your future.”
My companion doesn’t answer, and when I look down, I see him struggling to keep his eyes open, with his lids hooding closed.
It must be a little later when my eyes slowly open, and Irealize that I must have dozed off, and I feel a warm weight against my chest. Glancing down, my nephew is asleep even with the TV still on as background noise. In my peripheral view, I notice Summer watching as she leans against the frame of the wall where the living room joins the kitchen. Her arms are clasping her long sweater tightly, and her ankles are crossed; it doesn’t feel as though she just arrived.
Lifting my head, I do my best not to move so my nephew doesn’t wake. “Hey, how long have you been there?”
Her mouth tugs. “Long enough.” It translates to she’s been observing us. “Seems you upgraded from a two to a four on the baby-experience scale.”
My stunted laugh is scratchy and groggy. “Good to know.”
