“I’ll give you one of the apple muffins from yesterday, but you have to finish the veggie one first. Can’t be getting used to only sweet flavours, that’s what the lady on the internet says.”
I hear a huffing sound, and I look up to find an amused Hawk watching us from the kitchen entrance.
I suddenly feel very self-conscious, and I think my face shows it, because Hawk immediately reassures me, “It’s sweet how youtalk to him. Don’t stop on my account. I popped in to see if you needed anything.”
When I shyly shake my head no, he nods and turns to leave again. The back of his shirt is sweat-stained from unloading the car and carrying everything upstairs so quickly.
Two minutes later, he comes back, carrying the box containing DJ’s disassembled high chair.
“I can do that,” I tell him as he squats to open it.
He gives me a look and continues his work. I try not to stare, but I also can’t relax enough to resume my one-sided conversation with DJ.
After he’s done, Hawk washes his hands at the sink, then opens the fridge and starts taking things out. He looks so relaxed and in his element here, in his home.
I only met this man for the second time today, I think, suddenly alarmed.
Hawk sets a plate filled with apple slices, crackers, and cubes of cheese on the table and sits down across from us.
“We’ll eat at the party, but a snack can’t hurt,” he says. “Right, DJ?” He asks my son with a wink.
DJ tries reaching for the plate. I stop his little hand.
“Thanks.”
“So, house rules,” Hawk says suddenly, and I nod a little too eagerly. “Always arm the alarm before you leave. No booze in the house.”
“I can do that,” I say with a smile.
“As for having people over, I’d appreciate a heads up since I need to vet any outsiders coming into the compound. And…” He looks away before continuing, “No overnight guests, please.”
I’m mortified. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,” I say quickly.
Hawk thinks I plan on having a revolving door of boyfriends in and out of his house, and it doesn’t feel great. I take a deep breath.
“I’ve sworn off dating for the foreseeable future. I decided to focus on raising my son.”
His frown worries me.
“There won’t be any overnight guests. Don’t worry,” I reassure him again.
“Alright. Good.”
I desperately want to undo the last two minutes.
“Besides, Dr. Phil says that the children of single mothers who bring their boyfriends around are twenty times more likely to be molested,” I blurt out nervously.
“DJ’s pediatrician said that to you?!”
Hawk’s sincere disbelief and disgust, coupled with the absurd misunderstanding, make me erupt in laughter. I laugh until my rarely used belly muscles start aching.
“No…” I manage to say in between the laughs. “He’s not… He’s on TV. Never mind.”
DJ soon starts imitating me, and his little fake laughs make Hawk, and I laugh even more. I reward my son with some well-deserved smooches. I turn to Hawk, and he’s watching us intently.
It’s unusual for me to have two adults at the table. I’m struggling to remember the last family dinner we had with DJ’s dad. It was Christmas! Almost four months ago.
I remember how naive I was then, how desperately I wanted to reconnect with Dylan, and the familiar shame washes over meonce more. I have no idea why. I’m not the one who cheated, I didn’t do anything wrong, I know that, but I can’t shake the feeling of not being enough, of being stupid and humiliated because I was unable to keep my man’s interest…
