No response. Then: “Is Deddy a nerd?”
“I guess you could say he’s a bit of a nerd.”
“Is being a nerd a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked.
“It’s a good thing,” I tried to reassure him.
“Then why didn’t you say my deddy was a nerd instead of weird?” he demanded.
The kid had got me.
While Max and the boy went through the boxes, I picked up a colored pencil and a pad of paper and began drawing pictures of my poodles. The boy, bored, came over to see what I was doing. Then he started drawing a camel.
The house was quiet save for the sound of our pencils on paper.
This was nice I realized. It was nice to sit quietly in the living room drawing.
If I had a kid, would I try to improve my drawing skills again, I wondered. I crumpled up the poodles and attempted a horse head instead.
As I drew, I wondered what it would be like if me, Max, and the boy spent more time like this together. And what did the boy’s mother really think about the situation? After all, I was Max’s ex-girlfriend. Did she worry that Max and I might get back together and then we’d raise the child instead?
“Is she pretty?” I’d asked Max.
“Who?”
“His mother.”
Max shrugged. “She’s pretty in that Icelandic way. They’re all pretty.”
I got her last name out of him and found a few images of her online. She was, of course, stunningly beautiful.
I picked up a new piece of paper and attempted a sketch of the kid’s profile.
He leaned over to see what I was drawing. “Is that supposed to be me?” he said, affronted. “You made the nose too big.”
“Yes, that’s true,” I admitted. “I didn’t get the proportions exactly right, okay?”
The kid sighed. I sighed. I went back into my office and the kid went back to his father, probably to complain about me.
Day Fourteen
A huge thunderstorm from the night before left the campground soaked. It also flooded the barn, which meant I had to manually sweep out the water with an array of brooms.
It was one of those unavoidable tasks that for some reason only I could do.
The males would have to deal with their tents.
Having completed my task, I headed back to the house.
Surprise! Max made us delicious BLT sandwiches, including a couple of extra sandwiches for later. He really was turning out to be a great dad. While we ate, we talked about the storm the night before. Max tried to explain to his son how electricity worked.
I smiled. Max offered to clean up the kitchen so I could write.
I had peace for ten minutes.
“Come quick!” Max shouted.
“What?” I gasped and, in a panic, hurried out of the house after him. “What is it?”