"Life is messy, Sunshine. Some of those messes are ugly, but this is a beautiful one," Jude says in a soft voice just like the man himself.
He passes out fortune cookies as I clear the emotion from my throat. By now, we're all versed in the ceremony. Even Max waits until we've each finished our cookie to pass his fortune to Jude.
"A dream you have will come true," Jude reads. "That's a good one, little man."
Max looks from Jude to me with an impish grin.
Uh-oh.
I trade mine with Amie and quickly read hers, “You are talented in many ways."
"In bed," she adds. "Tell me something I don't know." She blows me a kiss, and I toss the scrap of paper back at her.
"I'm keeping mine," Jude says, but I snatch it from him.
"You will get a second chance."
"In bed?" Amie tacks on, feigning shock. I stick my tongue out.
"When happiness knocks, unlock the door," Jude reads mine, ignoring the both of us.
Hearing it from his lips sends my heart knocking against my rib cage.
Max begins to sign, Why do Aunt Amie’s fortune cookies always talk about being in bed?
“Speaking of bed,” Amie jumps in mouthing an apology over Max’s head, “Why don’t we get ready to go to sleep, little man?”
Max presses himself to Jude’s thigh. Admittedly I’ve found myself wanting to do the same thing: hang on to Jude and not let go, especially when it comes to bedtime. But my maternal side perks up, shaking her head and reminding me that this is classic attachment. The more I allow behavior like this, the more it will hurt both of us when Jude leaves.
But before I can pry the little boy from his god, Jude scoops him up. “I got this. You two relax.”
His smile reaches his eyes, crinkling their edges, and it reaches inside me, plucking at my out-of-tune heart. I ignore the alarm bells in my head in favor of that glorious sensation. Watching Jude carry Max to bed is like seeing a piece of a puzzle that has been missing. It just fits.
Next to me Amie sighs heavily and leans her head in my shoulder. “Do you think he’ll get you pregnant before the wedding? We might have to find white maternity dresses.”
Moment over.
“Oh my God.” I pull away from her and throw all my focus into clearing cartons and chopsticks. I leave the fortunes in their places, not really wanting to throw them away. “I’m not having his baby or marrying him.”
Amie crosses her arms and purses her lips. “Are you sure? I think just watching that got me pregnant. How do you stop yourself from humping him all the time?”
Despite how hard I work to hold it back, laughter spills from me. I toss the trash in the garbage bin and then lean into the counter, clutching my stomach as it cramps from the exertion. Amie joins me and I know she’ll never drop this whole marriage obsession now.
“I’m…not…certain why that’s so funny.” I manage to gasp between peals of laughter.
“Because it’s true,” she says breathlessly. “Don’t try to tell me that you didn’t spontaneously ovulate just then.”
I throw a kitchen towel at her head and abandon her to finish up the cleaning. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I peek into Max’s room.
“The elephant was too afraid to say hello.” Jude’s lips move carefully and even though Max can’t hear him, his voice moves rhythmically. It’s a soothing sound: listening to him read a bedtime story.
But inside emotions crash in on me, and I can’t deny that I want what I see for myself. For my son. I want Jude. I want this impossible life with him.
Pressing my shoulder against the wall, I try to center myself. But the peace I seek can’t be found. Instead there’s only this raging need that I’ve never felt before. The missing pieces Jude shows me aren’t part of a picture, they’re part of me.
I ache for him and it’s strange that this incredible sense of comfort-of belonging-he’s given me sparks such a fiery hunger. It builds inside me, Jude’s voice becoming oxygen to the blaze until I think I might actually combust.
I don’t move when Amie brushes past me. She doesn’t stop until she reaches her bedroom door. “I’m turning in for the night. I figure you two might want some time alone.”
This time I welcome the none-too-subtle implication in her words. Her door clicks shut and I close my eyes. I listen until I know he’s near the end of the story, then I force myself to walk away. She’s collected the actual leftovers and placed them on the counter. Do I pack them up or put them in the fridge? I don’t even know what’s inside them, but it doesn’t matter since Jude likes everything. Picking them up, I decide I want the leftovers.
Because I want Jude to have them here. Because tomorrow I want to call and offer to heat them up.
Because I want to see him tomorrow.
“Not going to let me take any home.” He leans against the counter, his strong hands gripping the edge. It should be a totally innocent move but the gesture makes his muscles tense until every carved sinew is on display.