“You and your mom have that,” I say finally. “You’re a family. She gave birth to you. But when adults marry each other, they’re picking that person to love. It’s a different thing.”
“I get that.”
“And your mom had to pick more carefully because whoever she loves will be around you. And you are the most important person in her life.”
Inch by inch, the anxiety in his eyes melts away. “You think?”
“I know,” I say.
He sighs, resting back against the sofa. Gazing out the window, he seems to be caught up in his thoughts. Slowly, he turns to me. “So, about what they’re doing in the bedroom . . .”
“You really want to know?” I laugh.
“Nope.”
“Thank God.”
Lincoln
“ARE YOU SURE IT TAKES all this stuff to make dinner?” I survey the kitchen. It looks like the grocery store threw up on the floor, counters, and table.
“How do I know? I’m a kid.”
“You were the one that read off the ingredients from the app. I need a little confidence here, Huxley.”
“There were about seven ingredients on the list. We got . . .” He looks at the golden plastic bags overtaking the kitchen. “We got way more than that. We should start putting this stuff away.”
I start opening cabinets and looking inside.
“What are you doing, Lincoln?”
“Trying to figure out where this stuff goes.”
I think he sighs behind me, but I don’t double check. We’re running out of time. The app says it will take almost an hour to make the pasta and I wanted to try to make sure the wine was chilled and put the cake from the bakery on a plate of some sort like my mom does when she tries to pretend like she’s baked something.
“Can I ask you something?” Hux asks.
“Sure.”
“Why are you going to this much trouble to make dinner for a girl? Do you like her or something?”
My hand stills on the bag of frozen spinach. “I do. I like her a lot.”
“What’s her name?”
“Danielle.”
He nods, organizing all the ingredients from the recipe beside the stove. Then he goes to work putting things in an empty cabinet.
“I’m going to need your help tonight,” I say, sticking a container of coffee next to my brand new coffee pot.
“How?”
“I need you to help this girl think I’m awesome.”
He peers at me over his shoulder.
“You’re my wingman.”