He looks at his plate, which is now swimming with syrup, and nods his agreement.
“Bottom in your chair. Time to eat.”
He plops right down and pokes a piece of pancake with his fork. He takes a big bite, eating with gusto and making a big sticky mess of himself. Most parents would probably be annoyed with the mess he’s making but not me. I savor every moment with my son. It wasn’t until we moved to Monett that I realized exactly how much time I missed out on in Henry’s life.
My grief stole lots of special moments with my son, and now I cherish all of them no matter how big or small.
When he’s done eating, I usher him to the bath and clean him up. Once he’s clean and dressed, I leave him with his trains so that I can take a quick shower. I find him right where I left him, pushing trains around the track. He could do that for hours and never tire of it.
“What do you want to do today, buddy?”
“Play at the park!”
“Sounds like fun to me,” I say with a smile. He loves the little park that’s down the block. On any given day, there are half a dozen kids around his age playing, so it’s become a favorite of his. This neighborhood is full of young families. It’s nice. I enjoy chatting with the other moms even though I’m not particularly close with any of them. We mostly talk about the kids and the kind of mischief they’ve gotten into since the last time we spoke.
My phone rings in the other room, and I rush to catch it before it goes to voicemail. I can’t help but wonder if it’s Axel. I don’t know what it means that I’m disappointed when I see that it’s Pelar calling, not him.
“Hello,” I answer.
“You were supposed to call me yesterday,” she accuses.
“Well, hello to you too,” I say sarcastically.
“Don’t give me that tone. You went on your first date since—” she stumbles over William’s name, probably because she doesn’t want to upset me.
“Since William,” I provide for her. A little stab of grief hits me, but it’s manageable now. Before, it would have drowned me. Now it’s just a twinge.
“Tell me how it went with internet stud.”
I snort a laugh at her nickname for him. Of course, I shared his pictures with her along with every detail imaginable. The guy wasn’t bad looking. In fact, he was quite handsome, but he didn’t hold a candle to the hotness level of Axel.
“He ghosted me.”
“He what?” she screeches.
“Totally ghosted me. I went to the club, and he was a no-show.”
“That bastard!” she says indignantly.
“It’s fine. I don’t even want a casual fling with someone who doesn’t have the decency to tell me they changed their mind to my face.”
“Wait. Why aren’t you more upset about this? You spent weeks talking to this dude before agreeing to meet him…”
Leave it to Pelar to pick up on my mood and lack of upset over something that should have had me calling her immediately to complain about how shitty he was to stand me up.
“I might’ve met someone at the club,” I admit.
“You what?! And you didn’t call me?” she screeches again, making me wince.
“It isn’t a big deal…”
Liar, liar. I’m a big fat liar.
“Bullshit. If it wasn’t a biggie, you would’ve called me. Instead, you avoided me, spill everything.”
I let out a sigh, knowing she’s not going to let this go. “His name is Axel. He’s a bartender at The Playground.”
“Is he hot? Don’t hold back. I need all the deets.”