HENDRIX
“When’s Lila getting up?”Beau whines. He plunges his fork into his pancakes and swirls it around, decimating the cake and making a hole in the middle of the stack. I watch in fascination as he fills the hole with syrup before moving over about two inches to repeat the process.
“When her head doesn’t hurt anymore.”
He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “I want to show her the Lego I put together last night.”
“She’ll be happy to see it.”
“I want to make another toy today.”
“Which one?”
“The Porsche.” He sets down his fork and syrup bottle. “Can I have a Porsche when I get older?”
“Beau, don’t ask that. It’s rude.” Lila strides in and pulls out a chair as I jump to my feet. She gestures for me to sit.
“Why is it rude? Drix is my wallet. He said so himself.”
“I did,” I affirm. Beau and I high-five.
Lila shakes her head, and I don’t know who she finds more irksome in this moment: Beau for asking for outrageous things or me so readily agreeing to them. “You don’t need a Porsche. Drix is your guardian, not your wallet. You should get a bike. It’s better for the environment.” She forks a strawberry between her pretty lips as if this is the end of the discussion.
“I’m a driver.” Beau operates an imaginary steering wheel. “See? Vroom. Vroom.”
“Why don’t you park the car since we’re having breakfast, Beau. Porsche drivers do not eat and drive,” I caution.
Beau considers this piece of information and then nods his acceptance. Lila sends me a grateful smile and tucks into her pancakes. The effects of last night’s drugging are still weighing on her.
After a few moments of silence, Beau pipes up. “Are you two getting married?”
Lila chokes on her pancake. I slap her back until her coughing fit subsides. “Why do you ask?”
He doesn’t sound against it.
“Because you carried Lila to your bedroom last night.”
“You should have been sleeping,” I say mildly, handing Lila a glass of milk to clear her throat.
“I was, but then I woke up because I had to piss.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.
Lila bursts out laughing. “He looks just like you. You make that exact expression.”
Beau beams smugly. I stroke the back of his head and think about how I thought I was content before these two appeared in my basement boiler room. I liked my solitude. I did not imagine a future with an adopted son and a wife. “Beau, I think it’s time I adopted you,” I say. “I’ve been your legal guardian for two years, but it’s time you have my last name.”
“‘Kay, but what about Lila? You adopting her too?”
“No.” I give my girl a warm smile. “Like you said, I’m marrying her.”
Lila drops her fork. It strikes the edge of the plate and then tumbles to the floor. I bend down and pick it up, wiping the tines clean and setting it aside. When I rise to get her a new fork, she grabs my wrist. “Don’t.” Her eyes, full of questions, search mine.
I turn to Beau, who has fully destroyed his stack of pancakes. “Beau, you ready for camp?”
He jumps up. “Yup.”
“Then go wash up. I’m going to talk to Lila, and then we’ll go.”
Beau dashes off, his small feet making more noise than they should. When the footsteps fade, I take Lila’s hand in mine and press her cold fingers to my mouth.