“The guy who sits in the back corner?” she asked.
I nodded. “The one with the laptop and brown hair.”
“He’s kinda cute, but he’s not normally my thing.”
I was curious about what her thing was. I had yet to meet any of her children’s fathers. Though, in high school, she tended to date the stoners.
“Did you miss the part about taking the trash out without being asked?” I inquired, feeling Knox’s focus intense on me.
He’d done the same thing.
And the first time he did it—after he came back inside and washed his hands—I’d jumped him.
Therefore, it was some time later when I’d explained the concepts of weaponized incompetence, malicious compliance, gaslighting and unbalanced emotional and household labor, and how pleased I was that he was exhibiting traits that had nothing to do with any of those things.
And it was then I fell even more in love with him because he hadn’t made fun of any of it.
He’d listened with interest and said with a depth of sincerity that was unreal, “Call me on any of that horseshit if I fall down on the job.”
“It’s disturbing how much of a plus women think this is with men,” Dream remarked. “I mean, how basic, and we consider it a green flag when it’s a beige one. Am I right?”
“You are so right,” I muttered, avoiding Knox’s gaze.
“I very much lucked out with you,” Mom said to Dad.
Dad gave her a gentle look.
“Well, it’s not like anyone else is knocking down my door,” Dream said.
“Oh, peaches!” Mom cried. “I’m so glad you’re going to put yourself out there and have a little fun.”
Dream rolled her eyes.
“You want me to give him your number?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said, then bent over her pasta.
It was then, I chanced a glance at Knox.
He was again studiously eating his own food.
But I knew he’d listened to every word.
After dinner, when we were corralling three kids, a dog and a wounded man into two cars, was when it happened.
Dream and her brood were strapped in.
Knox had Jacques’s lead (of course).
We’d handed out goodnight hugs and cheek kisses.
And Knox and I were walking side by side to my car at the curb when he stopped dead.
Thus, I stopped dead, looked to him, then aimed my gaze where his was, only to see a car drive by very fast.
I’d seen that car before.
It was Cheyenne’s.
