“No,” Kate says. “I want you to go to sleep sometime thisyear.” She looks back up to the server. “Also, can you bring him a little side salad so he can eat something green today? We’ll take two Coronas and, um, a cheeseburger and a salad to split.” The server starts to run down options and Kate interrupts again. “It’s okay. You choose,” she says. “We trust you. We’ve had a really long day.”
Wow, Kate just took charge.
“Okay, no problem,” the server says as she collects our giant menus.
Once she walks away, I say, “Well, okay, then.”
Kate is overwhelmed. I remember those days with Dani and the boys. Parenting is exhausting, but Kate’s in the homestretch. My kids are at the age now where I’d actually prefer to be at dinner with them over just about anyone else.
“Alex,” Kate says, “I know you’ve eaten at amazing restaurants, and I know you’re well traveled and well read, but I also know you’re not picky. I’ve been ordering your lunch for the last three months, remember?” She leans in and whispers, “And to be honest, I’m not planning on camping out here, the lighting is already giving me a headache.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m just along for the ride,” I say.
“I know. I like that about you, Alex. You don’t seem to really…care.”
Time stops.
Whoa! For a moment it feels like I just put my hands on a hot stove. I’m tempted to argue with her thatI docare. I remind myself that I wasn’t going to overthink things.
“Thanks, Kate.” I turn my attention to Tristan. “Hey, kid, sometime I’ll make you a quesadilla that will knock your socks off, no restaurants required.”
What the hell did I just offer?
They both laugh lightly and I’m relieved, but still surprised Iblurted out something like that without thinking. Kate notices that I’ve gone completely quiet.
“Well, yes, sometime we’ll come by the clinic and pick up one of your famous quesadillas.”
We wrap up dinner and the lame conversation about chain restaurants. Tristan was a good kid, just happy to be at Applebee’s. He’s tired now and as we drive back to their apartment complex, I glance in the rearview mirror and notice that he’s fallen asleep.
“He’s out,” I say.
“He always does that. He’s a really easy kid, actually.”
“To your credit, being a single mom can’t be a walk in the park all the time.”
We’re talking quietly. “I’m used to it now. My parents help out when they can.” Parking hasn’t gotten any better around her apartment in the last two hours. “You can just drop us at the front, Alex.”
“I’m not going to drop you off on the street with a sleeping six-year-old, a car seat, and a bag of stale French fries, Kate. I’ll help you get him in.”
It’s quiet for a moment. I look over to gauge her expression. She’s smiling serenely. “Are you sure?” she says.
“Of course.”
“I just don’t want you to feel weird—”
“I don’t feel weird about it at all. It really is just a logistical thing,” I say, and it’s the truth.
“It’s a kind thing to do, Alex. Agentlemanlything to do.”
I wonder what Kate is used to. I know she hasn’t been dating, but does she hang out with people who drop her and her sleeping kid off on the side of the road at nine o’clock at night?
Once I finally find a spot, we get out quietly. When shereaches in for him, I whisper, “No, I’ll get him. I’m used to carrying two like this.”
Tristan stirs a little but then rests his head on my shoulder and falls back to sleep. We get into the apartment without saying a word. Kate gestures for me to follow her to the bedroom on one side of the apartment. It’s Tristan’s room. I wait while she quietly pulls his comforter back. I lay him down, he stirs again, then he’s asleep. I’m watching Kate remove his shoes and socks and tuck him in. We are lit only by a blue fish-shaped night-light lamp in the corner.
She looks up at me and breathes out with relief. Then she pantomimes tiptoeing out of the room like a burglar. I have to hold back from laughing. I’m having déjà vu. These days are familiar. Exhausting, but the sweetest.
Once we’re in the hallway, she closes the door and motions toward the living room and adjacent kitchen.
