Afterwards, Maggie asked if I could give her a tour of the house. She sounded shy, asking for it, like she felt a bit ashamed. I didn’t know why she would. Secretly, I was beyond pleased. If she really liked the house, maybe I could persuade her to move in with me, her and Fern. I didn’t say as much just yet, of course. I had to be careful. Maggie was still cautious and I didn’t want to push too far, overwhelm her the way that I first had coming here. If I backed off and let her get comfortable, hopefully she would accept it when I wanted us to take further steps in our relationship.
I showed her the living room, the room I was thinking of being my studio, the spare room that I was thinking of in my head as Fern’s playroom but that I told Maggie was the guest room, and then the backyard.
When we got to the one bedroom that I had begun painting… my heart was thudding so loudly in my chest I was sure that Maggie could hear it, even standing a bit away from me the way she was as she took in the work I had started. The colors were spreading over one wall and around the corner to another wall, now, starting to take over the room properly.
“I’m not sure if I’m going to keep it abstract or not,” I told her. “I’m kind of just… seeing where it goes.”
I hadn’t done that in ages. Usually when I did art, I started out with a specific idea in mind and worked off that concept. Here I was going off of pure emotion, whatever I felt in the moment.
Maggie stared at the colors looking a bit awestruck. “I think it’s lovely.”
I knew it was a risk, but I wanted to tell her. “I was thinking this would be Fern’s room. That it would be a kind of mural for her, when you moved in.”
A whole parade of emotions marched across Maggie’s face. I wasn’t even sure what they all meant, if I could even begin to parcel them, and then before I could start to try, they were all gone, carefully covered up by a calm face that showed nothing.
“I need to get home,” she said. “I’ve got work to do today.”
“Right.” It wasn’t… awkward, exactly. It was more like a weight had settled back down on us, a weight that I had been happy to forget or ignore. I didn’t think that weight should be there in the first place, anyway.
“When can I see you again?” I asked as we pulled up in front of her duplex. I wanted to follow her into the house, I wanted to spend all day with her and Fern, I wanted… so many things that it felt like they were cramming up in my chest, creating a pile-up on the highway of my heart.
“I’m not sure,” Maggie replied. She sounded calm, not upset, but not… not as placid as she wanted to, either. “You know that—being a mom, it doesn’t really leave a lot of room for dating.”
Was that what she thought we were doing? Dating was far too casual of a thing to describe what we were doing. “I’m glad, because I’m not interested in dating.”
This was much more serious than dating. Dating was where you got to know the person, where you saw if your personalities could mesh, and then after a while if you continued to really enjoy the person you moved up to ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ or whatever you wanted to call your official significant other. But we were well past that, at least in my mind. I didn’t want casual, I knew that I wanted to be in Maggie and Fern’s life, and I knew that I wanted forever.
Maggie looked startled, her eyes going wide, and I realized what that must’ve sounded like. “I don’t see what we’re doing as dating,” I explained. “Think of it more like an audition. I’m trying out for the part of your life partner, and Fern’s father.”
Maggie flushed, blinking a few times like she thought I might disappear from her view if she took her eyes off of me for too long. “That’s… um. I need some time to think about all of this.”
That was entirely fair, if you asked me. I nodded. “I won’t rush you. I just wanted you to understand why I’m here. This isn’t a casual thing. I want to commit.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Maggie said. She sounded contemplative, nervous, and relieved all at the same time. I myself wasn’t even sure what I was feeling.
She got out of the car and headed inside the house without looking back.
I told myself that it was fine. She needed time. I hoped that I hadn’t rushed things, but I felt—after the way we, or rather after I, had ended things last time, I felt it was important that I was up front and honest about my intentions here. I didn’t want Maggie to have a second of doubt about how serious I was. And I was willing to wait and take things at a slower pace, but I was also impatient. I was ready to start a life together, the three of us, and I wasn’t interested in waiting.