Before Him

“Can’t. It seems to be stuck.”

Asshole.

“Mom? Can my dad hang out with me tonight?” My heart gives a painful little pitter pat as Wilder appears by my side again. But I mean, what else was he going to call him? I just didn’t expect it to happen immediately, and I didn’t expect so much effusiveness. “You know, when you’re on your date with Drew?”

Okay, so it seems Roman smile isn’t exactly stuck. And without it, the angles of his face make him look almost severe.

“I don’t think I’ll be going out with Drew tonight, honey.” Oh, and it’s back again. In miniature. “Maybe we’ll go out tomorrow night instead.” Oops. Gone again. It’s fleeting like the sun on a cloudy day.

“Okay.” Wilder’s shoulders slump before perking right up again. “So can he hang out with me tomorrow?”

“I could babysit. I have a tonne of experience.” The way Roman says experience, I’m not even going to think about it. “Uncle and all,” he adds as a qualifier.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.” Either thinking about his experience or letting him look after our son so soon after an introduction.

“I’m hurt.”

“You’re a piece of work,” I mutter under my breath. Roman laughs, but I feel like it’s too soon for me to join in. Maybe by the time Wilder is fifty, we might’ve reached that point in our relationship.

“Who usually babysits?” he asks, oh-so casually.

“Grace,” Wilder offers up. “She’s Ethan’s sister, but Ethan isn’t allowed to sleep over when Mom isn’t home.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine.” He gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Grace is nice. She makes popcorn and lets me watch a movie. Besides, Mom doesn’t go out very often.

“Enough chitchat,” I say, intervening. I need to go and break the news to Drew. While I’m looking forward to going to dinner with him tomorrow night about as much as I was tonight, I hope he’s good with a rain check. For one, I feel bad about this whole thing, and for two, Roman is like a puppy who needs his nose rubbed in this mess of his own making. His own making and mine. “Maybe I can give you a call tomorrow and—”

“We can hang out?” A child’s smile is surely one of Mother Nature’s most effective tricks.

“Sure,” I say with a smile and a sinking heart.

“You, too, Momma?”

Don’t do this to me, kid!

“We’ll see.”

And see we do.

* * *

“I can only imagine what that sight would do to me if I had ovaries.”

“What?” I ask absently as I balance a huge tray of clean cups and plates in my hand. Putting it down on the counter, I brush my dishwasher-humid hair from my face with a sigh. I’m not even sure why I asked because who else but the handsomest duo in Mookatill would Jenner be looking at. Backlit by the sun, the pair are like a couple of renaissance angels, just dressed in blue jeans and almost matching T-shirts.

“Just look at them,” he says with a blissful-sounding sigh.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I groan, tearing my eyes away from father and son with some difficulty. It’s hard to believe that I thought this would be a good idea. After calling Drew yesterday (a rain check was all good), I thought about Roman and Wilder and me hanging out together for approximately two minutes before nixing the idea. Then I thought about the alternative, the pair out on their own, and it made me feel even more anxious. The kind of anxious that found me still awake in bed at three o’clock and gone, worrying about how their first outing would go. While in my gut, I know Roman can be trusted with Wilder, that he’d guard him with his life, I couldn’t help feeling that it was a step too soon. Though maybe just for me. I know I have to learn to let go, so with that in mind, I’d sent Roman a text this morning and explained that I was needed at the café. I’d suggested he might meet Wilder for hot chocolate, then, if he had time and if Wilder wanted, the pair could go elsewhere. Maybe hang out for a while. This was my version of a compromise while also pulling my big girl panties wedgie inducingly high.

“They are totally adorbs—adorable to the max—and you know it.”

I’m saved from answering by the jingling doorbell when Ethan, Wilder’s little friend, and his sister, Grace, come in. Wilder jumps from his chair and makes a beeline to his friend as Grace stops to chat with a couple of high schoolers drinking coffees that are more caramel and cream than caffeine.

“So adorable.” Jenner swipes up the blender, pre-empting Grace’s order, noisily adding a scoop of ice. “And you’re staring at him.”

“Check your specs. These are laser beams of distaste burning from my eyeballs.”