“I didn’t realize you were looking for a serious relationship.” We went to bars and hooked up with women, never calling them again, living the bachelor life that men our age enjoyed. He never talked about the future beyond that, romantically.
He shrugged. “I want to get married and have a family someday. I’m still young, so I’m not rushing to the altar right this second. But if I met the right woman…I’d be into it.”
“And you think Cleo is the right woman?” I asked incredulously.
“No.”
“Because you’re talking about kids—”
“Deacon, listen.” He raised his hand and silenced me. “I’m attracted to Cleo. And in my limited conversations with her, she seems chill, easygoing, funny. She’s also responsible, having an important job. So, no, I’m not saying she’s the right woman. I’m saying she’s the kind of woman I’d like to ask out. You get what I’m saying?”
I stared at him blankly.
“She’s not some random chick I’d pick up at the bar and forget. She’s someone I’d like to see again—all I’m saying.”
I nodded slightly and turned back to my computer.
“Geez, you’re exhausting sometimes.”
“If you chose your words more carefully, it might make it less confusing. And you talk a lot—but don’t really say anything at the same time.”
He chuckled then started eating again. “Yeah…I’m the confusing one.”
The chat box opened on my screen.
Theresa: Cleo just arrived.
I typed back. Send her in.
I told Theresa I didn’t want her to call me every time she needed something. She could write most of her messages, and I would address them when I felt like it. If it was something too complicated to write, that was when she called. Those times were rare.
Cleo opened the door and stepped inside, wearing a long skirt in subtle shades of pink. Her top was skintight, a single strip of skin between the waistband of her skirt and her blouse. Her hair was curled and pinned to one side. The weather had finally started to warm up, so her entire being seemed to brighten as well. She held an envelope in her hand and approached the desk as she pulled out the papers. She organized them on my desk, so I knew where to sign. “Just add your signatures, and I’ll hand-deliver this for you.” She stood with her hands at her waistline, adopting the posture of a journalist about to deliver the evening news.
I grabbed my pen and started to add my signatures.
She looked out the window behind me then examined my bookshelves. “I also brought you some lunch. Our chef had some extra salmon, so I had him make a plate for you. I left it with Theresa.”
I added another signature and looked up at her. “You can sit down.” It was a stack of papers and would take me a few minutes.
She lowered herself into the gray armchair and crossed her legs, her hands together on her knee.
I kept signing. “Tucker told me he showed you a picture of Derek.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “And he’s sooo cute. Might be the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”
My pen stilled because I focused on her instead of the papers I was signing. Like all parents, I loved to hear compliments about my son, was proud of him even though he hadn’t done anything.
“He looks just like you. He has your hair, your eyes, everything. It’s amazing.”
“Yes. He does.” I started to sign again.
“You must be excited for your brother to move out in a few days.”
I added the last signature before I reorganized the stack. “Yes. I prefer to live alone.”
“At least you got to spend some time together.”
Too much time together.
She got to her feet and returned the papers to the envelope. “Where is he moving?”
“A few blocks away, actually.”
“Oh, that’s great. It must be nice to have family in the city.”
I was happy he was there, even if I was a bit annoyed with him at the moment. He had it bad for Cleo, and I was sick of hearing about it.
“Any luck with Derek?”
I shook my head. After my last conversation with Valerie, I needed a break. I took Cleo’s advice and decided to let Valerie calm down before I tried again.
“Do you have any other pictures you can show me?”
I never used to have a personal photo on my home screen, keeping it neutral in case anyone saw it. But as the weeks passed and I missed him more and more, I put a picture of both of us on the screen, so I could see it every time I looked at my phone.
I unlocked the screen and slid it toward her.
She lifted it to her face, immediately smiling at the photo of the two of us. It was an image of Derek with his small fishing pole, wearing a dark green hat and a sweater. I kneeled down beside him with my own rod. With me on my knees, he was still barely my height, and my arm was wrapped around him as we both smiled at the camera.