He shakes his head. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Well, I don’t know how you do what you do,” I say, giving him another bite. “Dealing with kids all day? Especially so young? Not for me.”
He smiles, his features brightening as if he’s thinking of what he does. The happiness is written on his face.
“Some days are difficult. Kids can be a lot, but they’re fun. Adorable. They say really weird things sometimes. It’s entertaining. Besides… you were really good with Noah. Thank you again for that.”
He opens his mouth, and I smile as I give him another bite. God, he’s adorable.
“I like kids, I just wouldn’t want to deal with them in that capacity.”
“Teaching?”
“More than one at a time.”
He laughs, the sound loud but sweet.
“So, I take it you don’t have kids? I assumed, but…”
“No kids.”
Miles reaches out his hand, gesturing to the bowl. “I’ll feed myself so you can eat.”
I don’t argue. I give him the bowl and pick up mine.
“Red or blue?” I ask, gesturing to the Gatorade.
“Definitely red.”
I hand him the bottle, then take a bite. I’d already tasted it, so I know it’s one of my best. This is one of my favorite meals—simple enough to make, too.
“Have you ever thought about having kids?” I ask, unsure how this conversation turned so serious and even more confused about why it doesn’t feel serious at the same time. It feels like a normal conversation you have with someone. Maybe it is. I’m not social enough to know.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it. But then Noah came along and I kind of stepped in as his father-figure.”
“Where is his real father?” I ask.
“Took off. Wanted nothing to do with a kid.”
“Shitty.”
“Yeah,” Miles agrees. “But part of me can’t help but be grateful for it. Noah and I wouldn’t be so close otherwise. Audrey and me, either. Is that selfish?”
“No, Miles,” I say. “That’s not selfish at all. You love your family and want to be part of it. That’s normal.”
It falls quiet as we eat, the silverware clinking against the porcelain bowls.
“I do want kids of my own one day, though. A partner, too. It feels weird thinking about it now that my life has fallen into a routine with Noah and Audrey, but I definitely want that for myself. Something that’s mine, not just something I’m helping with.”
“Something permanent.”
“Exactly.” He gives me this odd look, like he’s surprised I know what he means.
I nod. “I understand that completely.” And before the conversation turns too serious, I say, “I noticed you cleaned out the entryway.”
He huffs a laugh, and I can’t tell if he picked up on my sudden need to change the subject.
“Yeah, well, some firefighter told me it was a fire hazard, so I thought it was important.”
