“You were here by yourself,” he repeated, a statement this time, his tone angry.
I turned fully to them, doughy hands and all.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Are you eating?” Auden asked confrontationally, a change in subject that made my head twitch.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re too skinny,” he informed me irately. “Why aren’t you eating?”
“I…” I shook my head. “I lost some weight but—”
“You’re super-skinny, Mom,” he bit out.
God.
He called me Mom.
He hadn’t said my name in so long, it hurt.
Killed.
I didn’t burst into happy tears.
I told him, “I was busy when I got here, honey. I lost track of what I was eating. I know I lost some weight, but I’m eating again. Promise.”
After I said this, Olympia shifted a bit to her brother’s side and asked like she was making an accusation, “Are you dating?”
I stared at my girl.
How could she know that?
She must have seen more of the interaction with Boston, Mickey and me than I thought.
“Well…yes,” I answered carefully.
My daughter had not shared that tidbit with her brother. I knew it when his eyes got wide before his brows snapped together. “You’re dating?”
Now how did I handle this?
When that question hit my brain, it struck me that my children were living with their father and his new wife and they’d been doing it for years, so they knew very well how divorced parents moved on.
They also weren’t kid-kids anymore. They were old enough to know at least some of the ways of the world, especially those their father already taught them.
“Yes, I’m dating,” I declared. “And it’s healthy,” I went on. “It’s part of getting on with my life and building a life, enjoying it and maybe, someday, finding some happiness for me.”
“Are you dating that guy?” Pippa asked and I looked to her, worried she meant Boston Stone as she’d seen me with him and clearly seen me accept a date with him.
To confirm what she meant so she had a straight answer, I queried, “What guy?”
“The old, hot firefighter guy,” she answered.
Mickey.
Funny she thought he was old. He seemed criminally vital to me.
I shook my head. “No, Pippa, I’m not dating him. He’s…a friend.”
“You’re not dating him?” she pushed.
“No, honey, I’m not.”
“He’s into you,” she declared.
I blinked.
“Jeez, Pip, shut up, will you? Auden muttered and ended on, “Sick.”
She looked to her brother. “You weren’t there. This slimy guy was hitting on Mom and he swooped in and got in his face. It wasn’t sick. He’s old but he’s hot and that definitely was hot. And he wouldn’t even let Mom put her groceries in the car, that’s how into her he is. And he practically got in a smackdown with that slimy dude when he tried to put Mom’s groceries in her car.” She drew in a deep breath and shared, “And he was the one who saw Dad shouting at Mom.”
Clearly, my girl had been on the sidewalk a whole lot longer than I suspected.
Auden’s eyes cut to me. “Did this guy see Dad shouting at you?”
“He kind of…saved me,” I told them.
Auden’s eyes went stormy. “Saved you?”
“Your father was emotional,” I thought it safe to say.
Auden’s jaw went hard again and his eyes sliced to the wall of windows.
“So!” I said loudly, deciding that although I was beside myself with delight my children were talking to me, this particular conversation needed to come to an end. “Here we are. Your mom is moving on, dating, the house is getting shaped up and we’re spending time together. Now, it’d be great if you’d dump your things, get settled, take some time to make a list of stuff we need to go out and buy tomorrow, then later, we’ll have dinner and watch a movie.”
They both stared at me.
“You can do that now,” I prompted. “I’m going to finish these cookies.”
Auden looked me up and down and asked, “Are you going to eat some cookies?”
I really, really hoped that question meant my boy was worried about me. I didn’t actually want him worried, but I thought it said good things that he’d feel anything.
“Yes, baby,” I answered gently.
His jaw went so hard at that, a muscle jumped in his cheek.
Then, without a word, he prowled across the space to the hall.
“Did you dump my new comforter?” Pippa asked and her voice had an edge of ugly but there was something else there that was reminiscent of my little Pippa.
“No, Pippa, you didn’t put your other stuff back in your room so I got rid of your old stuff.” I tipped my head to the side. “I hope that’s what you wanted.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, turning away. “It wasn’t that ugly.”
She liked it, my stubborn baby girl who was perhaps too much like me.
I grinned at the cookies.
My children spent time settling.
Then they actually did as I asked and made lists.
We had dinner.