I should have just kept my mouth shut. Or, waited until he came into the living room before I got up. But no. Now I'm going to be having dreams about Peter shirtless for the rest of the night. How do I get myself into these situations?
“Mama.” Lexi’s voice is a loud whisper beside me.
For a second, I think I'm dreaming. I also forget where I am and it takes a few moments to register that I’m in Peter’s bed.
“Mom, get up.”
“Lexi?” I feel around in the bed searching for her. “Is something wrong?”
“No, Mom, nothing's wrong. I need you to get up, breakfast is ready.
“Oh, okay.” I want nothing more than to go back to sleep. Dreams of how things could have played out differently last night ran on repeat. Revisiting that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Come on, before it gets cold. Peter told me to wake you up because you don't like to eat cold eggs.”
Wow. I can't believe he remembered that about me. Cold eggs are disgusting. After all these years, he still knows me so well.
“Fine, fine.” I roll out of bed and a sharp sting of cold hits my feet as I place them on the floor. “Hey, can you reach in my bag and get me some socks?”
“Yep.” She bounces off the bed and rushes over to my bag. “I’m surprised you didn't sleep with them on last night. It was cold.”
“Didn't you have your heater on?”
She tosses me a pair of socks.
“Yes, but it only does so much. Plus, I was scared to keep it up high, because, you know, house fires.”
“That's a good point.” I slip on the thick socks and follow her out of the room.
Peter is sitting on the recliner, pulled close to the coffee table. “You look like you slept well last night.”
“I did, thank you.”
Lexi laughs and points at my hair.
I reach my hands up to see what they're talking about, and I'm glad I didn’t look in a mirror. Mortification that my daughter let me walk out of the room like that courses through my veins. Regardless of how I feel, or don't feel, about Peter.
“You probably should have taken a brush through that.” She keeps giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“You could have warned me.” I feel Peter’s eyes on me, but I refuse to acknowledge his gaze.
She shrugs before taking a seat on the sofa and patting the spot next to her. In my defense, Peter has probably seen worse when it comes to my hair. But still, that is not something I want him seeing when we’re adults. At least, not anytime soon.
What in the world am I talking about? There shouldn't be an anytime soon. There's no relationship. No Peter. Nothing. He is off limits, and I will not go down that rabbit hole again.
“So, Mom?” Lexi asks before taking a bite of her eggs. “How do you feel about snow angels?”
“Um, I don’t generally. It’s cold.”
“Oh.” Lexi looks towards the window then back at me. “How do you feel about them in practice?”
“Why do I have to make snow angels with you? Isn’t that something you can do on your own?”
“Yeah, but Mom,” Lexi sighs. “It's more special when you come out with me.”
I should be grateful she wants to spend the time with me, and I am, but I also don't like being cold. The last thing I want to do is make snow angels in Peter’s front yard.
I noticed him studying the both of us. “Well, if she won't make them with you, I will.” He nods toward Lexi. I used to do them with my brothers and sisters all the time. We’d see whose angel was the biggest. My baby sister, Piper, would always get mad when hers was the smallest. She's the baby of the family and didn't realize she wasn't quite as tall as the rest of us.”
