Brayden looked at the collage of colors and textures from a variety of objects including buttons and feathers.
“Gorgeous,” Brayden said, reaching over to mess Noah’s hair. “You’re a real Picasso.”
Noah frowned. “What’s that?”
“He’s a famous artist,” I said.
Brayden focused on the kids, and while I was glad that he was so involved in wanting to know about them, it didn’t escape me that he never once asked about my week. Then again, I didn’t ask about his.
When we finished, I gathered the plates.
“I can do that,” he said.
“Why don’t you get Noah ready for his soccer game,” I said. I’d rather he spent the time he had at home with the kids than doing chores.
Watching four-year olds play soccer was a lot like watching cats chase a toy. They hadn’t mastered the concept of positions. They all clustered around the ball, looking for a chance to kick it. All except Noah. He was on the sideline watching the game but not with much interest.
Eventually he came over to us. “I don’t want to play.” His blue eyes had tears and his little mouth quivered. It broke my heart.
Brayden’s jaw tensed. “You haven’t even tried, buddy.”
Noah shrugged.
I squatted down. “What would you rather do as an activity?” I asked.
Noah shrugged again.
“How about gymnastics,” Lanie said from atop Brayden’s shoulders. “It’s fun. You can jump and roll.”
“What about t-ball?” Brayden offered, which surprised me since he’d been so adamant that Noah had to finish the season.
Noah shook his head slightly, as his eyes glanced up at Brayden. I had a moment to wonder if Noah was afraid of disappointing his father.
“How about swimming or maybe karate,” I asked.
“Oh karate, that sounds fun. Can I do that?” Lanie asked.
“We’ll look into that,” Brayden said.
Of course, that meant I’d look into it. Brayden had good intentions at home, but no follow through.
“How about we go get some hamburgers, take them for a picnic, and talk about it,” Brayden said.
“Yay!” Lanie clapped her hands.
We went through the drive through to get food that we planned to eat on a picnic along Lake Washington.
“What do you want, Ter?” Brayden asked as we pulled up to the intercom to order.
“Just a coffee.” I was still full from breakfast, I told myself, although I knew it was the thought that he didn’t find me sexually attractive anymore that had me worried again about my weight.
“I want a cheeseburger and French fries, daddy,” Lanie called.
“Nuggets,” Noah added.
Brayden rolled his window down. “I’d like a number one meal, a cheeseburger and small fries, small nuggets and fries, and three colas.”
“Is that all?”