In the very next blink, I think of Dorothy.
“Hey, buddy. Can you bring me my phone? It’s on the kitchen table.”
“I get it!” Roman wiggles down from Julie’s lap and runs into the kitchen.
“So … what sounds good for dinner?” She stands, sliding her hands into her back pockets which press her new chest out, showing off the goods.
“We can just order something to be delivered.”
“No. I’m here. I fully intend to make meals. Clean house. Maybe knit something.” She winks.
When she was pregnant with Roman, she took up knitting. That Christmas everyone got scarves and mittens.
“As I recall, the last time you took up knitting, the house never got cleaned and we always ordered delivery.”
“True.” An easy laugh bubbles from her chest. “I’ll try to show a little more restraint this time.”
“Here, Daddy.” Roman brings me my phone.
“Thanks, buddy.”
“You going to help me make dinner, mister?” Julie ruffles Roman’s hair as they both head toward the kitchen.
Dorothy has three more hours of work, but I can’t resist texting her on the off chance that she might break the rules and text me back.
Me: What are you wearing?
She doesn’t respond right away. That’s fine. I have nowhere to go and all the time in the world. Twenty minutes later, she texts me.
Dorothy: Scrubs (shrug emoji)
Me: What’s the color combination today?
Dorothy: I’m working
Me: Two words. I know you’re wearing two colors. Be quick and sneaky. Type two words to me. (folded hands emoji)
Dorothy: Green white
Me: Grass green (grass emoji) or surgical green (stethoscope emoji)
She doesn’t answer. I frown. Kudos to Dorothy for taking her job seriously.
While Julie and Roman make dinner, I lean my head back and close my eyes. I dream of jogging along my favorite trail, the windy, narrow paths. Nothing but miles of trees, deep ravines, and the trickling of tiny waterfalls.
“Daddy!”
I jump, cringing as my wounds protest.
“Don’t scare Daddy, silly. Remember we have to be really really nice to him.” Julie hooks Roman around the waist with her arm and kisses him on the cheek as she scoops him up into her arms. “Let me get the wild man his food. Then I’ll help you to the table. Unless you’d rather eat on the sofa.”
“The table is fine. If I eat out here, Roman will want to eat out here too. And that will turn into an unbreakable habit.”
Julie nuzzles Roman’s ear as he giggles. “So very true. I’ll be right back.”
We eat tacos.
I think of Dorothy and her love of tacos … and all food really.
After dinner, Roman sits between me and Julie on the sofa (my leg propped up on the coffee table), and we take turns reading him his favorite stories.
At eight o’clock, Julie takes him upstairs to tuck him in bed.
Dorothy: Surgical green
I smile as my phone chimes.
Me: How was work today?
Dorothy: Same as every day. How are you feeling?
Me: Like I fell into a steep ravine.
(Three rolling on the floor laughing emojis)
When can I see you?
Dorothy: IDK
Me: Not an acceptable answer. (neutral face emoji)
Dorothy: Your house is only twenty minutes from my school. I have a 2.5 hr break between classes on Mondays. I could bring you lunch. And Roman. And Dr. Hathaway.
I stare at the last line of her text. Julie is living with me. Helping me. Allowing me more time with Roman. I’m grateful. Of that, there is no question. But it doesn’t bode well for my time with Dorothy.
Me. My son. My girlfriend. And … my ex-wife.
But maybe that’s it. I mean … I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen those rare instances where couples divorce. Share custody. And actually remain friends. Friends with each other. Friends with each other’s new love interests. Maybe it doesn’t have to be an awkward situation. Maybe it can be an opportunity.
After all, Julie left me. There should be no jealousy on her part. And Dorothy idolizes Julie, so they stand a good chance of becoming friends.
Me: That would be awesome. I’ll pay you back.
Dorothy: Not concerned about the money. I’ll text you the menu so you guys can decide what you want. I can be there by 11:30. (high-five emoji)
Me: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait to see you! (high-five emoji, heart emoji)
I start to type “I love you,” but delete it. She knows. I told her with no uncertainty exactly how I feel. No need to suffocate her with the words. But damn! I sure do feel them.
Dorothy: Love you! Goodnight! (Face blowing a kiss emoji, sleeping emoji)
“What’s that grin all about?”
I glance up as Julie takes the last two steps. A curious grin on her face.
Our newfound friendship doesn’t seem ready for me to tell her I can’t stop grinning because Dorothy Mayhem loves me. And she said it with emojis too. Yeah, I’m over the fucking moon, ready to bust out of my cast and do a happy dance.