“Great to see you,” he says, as he looks me up and down. He’s scanning my outfit, making sure it looks good. It’s a habit of his, one he did before we’d go out to dinner or to see friends. The ole ‘last looks’ is what I called it in jest, but nevermind italways made me feel less than. “You look amazing. I know that shirt, you’ve had it since…our honeymoon?”
“I’m not sure if you’re showing us how good your memory is or reminding me how old my shirt is, but I guess I should say thanks?” I say this with a smile, even though my words are most certainly served with more than a dash of vinegar.
“Dad, I have to show you something,” Theo blurts, already tugging on David’s sleeve. “I won a race at school and Timmy’s my best friend now and his parents invited me to Ocean City this summer and Mom might let me go and I work here sometimes and I help Charlie and?—”
David laughs, wide and easy. “Whoa, buddy. One miracle at a time.”
Theo beams.
“I’ll tell you what,” David says. “How about I take you out for ice cream? Right now. You feel like ice cream?”
Theo gasps like he’s been offered a trip to space. “Yes!”
“Then let’s go,” David says, glancing at me. “If your mom’s okay with it, that is.”
My hand is already on Theo’s back, holding him a little closer than necessary. I lean down and kiss the top of his head.
“Hey,” I murmur. “Why don’t you go in the back with Charlie for a minute, okay? He’ll make sure you’re all clean and presentable for ice cream. I need a quick word with your dad.”
Theo nods eagerly. “Okay!”
He darts toward the back of the store, calling Charlie’s name at full volume, already narrating his ice cream order. I turn my focus to David now that we’re alone, standing in the front of Leaf & Letter, surrounded by a bevy of plants that feel like a quiet audience to our awkward reunion.
David shifts his weight, slipping his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket like he’s settling in for a conversation instead of standing in the middle of my livelihood with my heart quietly in his crosshairs.
“So,” he says, casual as anything. “The store looks good. You’ve got a lot of stock.”
“Thanks,” I say, a genuine grin spreading across my face. “We’re definitely in a better position now than we have been. Nothing is perfect, but the books balance and for that I’m grateful.”
“Well, see?” he says with a nod, hands in his pockets as he sways from one foot to the other. “Hockey can help people, too.”
My jaw almost unhinges itself. “What?”
“That’s not what I—” David smacks his forehead. “That did not come out as planned. This is not easy for me.”
“For you?” I resist the urge to snort, really loud, in his face. “I feel like the easy part is only having yourself to take care of. You know…party of one and all that.”
“I came here wanting us to get along,” David whispers, loud enough I’m sure they heard it across the street, but at least he tried.
“Well, how’s it going so far?” I almost shriek before I stop and get a hold of myself. This is not going to get us anywhere nor do anything for our son.
Crossing my arms, I look back at David, who is kicking off his shoe and pulling off his sock, waving it in the air.
“What are you doing?”
“I wanted a white flag.” He holds up a blue-and-white striped sock. “Best I could do. Truce?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Yes. Truce.” I shake my head and look at him. “I promised myself I’d be an adult today.”
David shrugs. “We’re human. None of it’s perfect, but his birthday can be right?”
“His birthday is shaping up to be amazing.” I narrow my eyes. “You’d better be there for that kid, David. He’s so excited you’re coming.”
David exhales, running a hand over the back of his neck—the universal gesture of a man who means well and still manages to miss the mark. He isn’t cruel. He isn’t careless on purpose. He’sjust someone who was never meant to be anchored, who drifts through life assuming things will sort themselves out without realizing some things need choosing.
“I will be there,” he says, shaking his head and looking at me like I’m the unreasonable one.
And maybe, in his world, he believes that’s enough.
