Emotional reasons—not logical ones. This part of Elaina, this woman sitting across from him, had never shared his bed. He couldn’t help wondering, even though their time together had been phenomenal, how much greater it could be to have all of her.
“Just judging from my own experience growing up, I think, the baby would benefit from having its parents celebrating together,” he said. “I had a friend whose folks were divorced and didn’t get along, and he was always having to choose who to call first, who to invite...always worrying that if they were both there, like at the science fair, did he approach one or the other first. If they’d simply been able to walk in together...”
“I like that. A lot. Walking in together.”
“Maybe, where the baby’s concerned, we’re a united front,” he said aloud something that he hadn’t allowed himself to envision fully previously. The call wasn’t only his to make. And he didn’t want it to be solely his.
She nodded. “We’ll need to take each instance as it comes, but overall, we’re in this together.”
In it together. It was all he’d ever really wanted.
And the woman he’d found it with was counting on him to not ask her to marry him. Or to even try to engage in a personal intimate relationship.
Life’s ironies were sometimes cruel.
* * *
Elaina was outside with Beldon that evening, just before dark, sitting at the pool and watching the dog trip over himself in his eagerness to explore the yard. He’d been out to the shed a number of times, and over to explore the house Wood had built for Retro, who’d never used it.
Whatever dissatisfaction Retro had found with Wood’s handiwork, Beldon didn’t seem to share it. He went in and came back out again. Went back in, turned around and came out. He was like a little kid, eager to explore his world with none of the fear that life inevitably taught.
Beldon had learned a hard lesson already. He’d loved and been abandoned. And yet was clearly open and keen to taking on another home, another life. She’d been warned, while sitting on the floor with the dog as she signed papers, to expect some nervousness when she first introduced him to his new home. Apparently Beldon hadn’t understood the message.
Greg had taken off almost as soon as they’d arrived home. Headed to the beach. Coming from Nevada, he had seen a lot of the desert, he’d told her once, and couldn’t seem to get enough of the ocean.
She missed him. Wished he’d stayed home to watch Beldon acclimate.
But understood, too, that while her child was his child, and that they’d share, her dog was hers. Hers and the baby’s.
It was all so confusing.
“I bought some steaks for dinner. You want to join me?”
Turning, she saw the subject of her thoughts walking toward her from the house. She hadn’t heard him come out. But then, she had been listening to the rock waterfall flowing, emptying into one end of the pool.
Steaks. For dinner. The two of them. Together.
“I’d like to talk to you,” he added.
Which somehow changed the invitation?
“Sure, I can make a salad,” she told him, and before either of them could make a big deal out of a shared meal, she went inside to do just that.
Make the salad.
And a big deal out of the shared meal.
It wasn’t a date. She didn’t want it to be a date.
But she was looking forward to sitting outside with Greg again. Using the grill and enjoying the pool that had been built for a family, but never used by one before.
The summer California evening was just right for being outside. Warm, but not hot. If she’d been alone, she’d have gone swimming. Didn’t think it was a great idea with Greg right there.
Didn’t think it would be good for her if he decided to join her.
Just seeing his body in shorts and a tight-fitting polo shirt on those shoulders brought back memories from another life.
Another person.