The week passed by and I realized how much of a routine Jude and I had fallen into. The best part was how much I liked it. We had breakfast together just about every morning before he left for school, and on the nights neither of us had anything, we would make dinner together, always remembering the special ingredient of doing it together.
After we ate, Jude would work on his homework, and I’d help him when I could. The kid was smart, taking a lot of advanced classes, and I loved watching his enthusiasm for learning. We really had become a family together, and we’d even begun a chore list, trading off who did what. I was at the point though, where I wanted to hire someone.
The amount of time we were home was limited, and I didn’t want to spend it scrubbing the toilet. Granted, meals and laundry would still need to be done, but those things were more enjoyable since we often did them together. Laundry had become our binge-watching time. We were taking turns picking shows to introduce the other person to and in between episodes we would change over the laundry, fold, and put away. We could sit there and do four or five loads, and it never felt tiresome.
So far we’d watched The Boys, which I’d enjoyed, even if it had been a tad bit gory for my taste, The Originals, and Mindhunters. Our next choice was mine, and I hadn’t decided what I wanted to start, yet. I was debating on going with either a classic sitcom or a drama.
Tonight, I’d run late from my workout, so I’d stopped and picked up some food for us. Juggling the takeout bags along with my briefcase and gym bag, I attempted to press the button for the elevator. When a hand reached over and hit 18, I looked up in surprise.
“Monroe, hey.”
“Loren. How are you?”
I leaned against the elevator, my heart racing as I tried to figure out how to answer that question. “Oh, you know, living life I suppose.” I inwardly cringed; my attempt at small talk hadn’t improved at all in the past few months. It was so awkward with Monroe to begin with. I never knew what to say or how much to ask. We went from, ‘hey, I’d like to swap spit with you’ to ‘did you hear that toaster strudels are on sale this week?’
Quite frankly, it sucked.
I’d confronted Monroe a few days after his Dear John text. Or well, I’d intended to. He’d been so distraught and exhausted that I didn’t have it in me to be angry with him.
If I removed the feelings of being cast aside, I couldn’t blame him for his choices, even if it hurt. So, I chose to honor his request. Levi was important, the most important, and I couldn’t be selfish in this case or angry he’d chosen his son over me. He should, especially in this situation. So all the arguments I’d prepared in my head to shout at him, stopped on my tongue, and I hugged him instead.
“It seems you and Jude have gotten into a routine.”
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” I nodded, my head wobbling around like I’d had too much sugar with how exuberantly I moved it.
“How’s um, everything with you?”
“No changes yet.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah.” He shifted, his posture not necessarily relaxed, but also not uncomfortable. It felt like he wanted to reach out, but was holding himself back. It gave me a small spark of hope he was struggling with keeping our distance as much as I did.
“How’s um… the twins?” I amended, wanting to avoid Levi unless he brought him up.
“They’re good. I haven’t gotten to spend as much time with them as it conflicts with my visiting hours with Levi.”
“I bet that’s hard. I’m sorry, Monroe.”
“Yeah, well. It’s Levi, so.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant. I hadn’t known Jude as long, or birthed him, but I loved the kid fiercely. The ding sounded, announcing our arrival, and I both felt glad and sad. At least the awkward ride was over, but it also meant my time with him was too.
We walked slowly down the hall together, almost as if we both didn’t want to leave, but not sure what to say. When I got to my door, I waved, my bags obscuring most of my arm, but he got the message, smiling as he waved back. Entering my place, I wondered if I was doing this all wrong.
I’d given him space, but what if he wanted me to fight for him? As Jude and I sat around the coffee table eating Chinese food, and watching Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, I made a commitment to myself to try harder.
Maybe I could be his Monroe, pushing him to let someone in. I didn’t have anything to lose, only everything to gain.
Decided, I settled back and watched the show with Jude, a new determination in my spirit.
* * *
I stoodbehind my door a few days later, peeking through the peephole to the hallway. Monroe had started varying the times he left for work, making our morning elevator rides inconsistent. Today, I planned to stake out the hallway until I saw him leave. I’d been able to persuade George down at the front desk today to tell me if he’d already left. According to him, he hadn’t, so I had a window of time before I’d need to go and not miss my appointments.
My feet were starting to go numb, the high heels unforgiving after standing in the same position for hours on end. Okay, so twenty minutes tops, but it definitely felt longer.
I was about to call it when I saw his door begin to open. My heart rate picked up, my breath hitching at the opportunity before me. Playing it cool, I waited until he’d just started down the hall. No quick escape back into his apartment for him!