Page 56 of Colt
“It would mean the boys have built something around him,” I said. “That I let them.”
Bea was quiet.
“I know how to start over,” I said. “I’ve done it. I know what it costs and how long it takes and how quiet everything gets after.” I paused. “I don’t think I could watch them go through that.”
Bea studied me. “Is that the only thing you’re protecting?”
I didn’t answer that. “It would mean I have to decide something,” I said finally.
Bea let that sit.
“I don’t remember falling in love with him the first time.” I set my mug down. “I don’t have access to whatever it was that made me say yes. I can’t go back and check my own reasoning. I have to start from nothing and decide if—” I stopped.
“If it’s worth the risk,” Bea finished.
“If I’m brave enough,” I said. It was closer to the truth. “He’s not nothing. That’s the problem. If he were nothing it would be easy.”
Bea smiled at that. “That’s usually how it works.”
I picked up my mug again. Through the window the bird was back, or a different bird, and I watched it for a moment.
“The boys have been asking questions about him,” I said. “About who he was. What he was like before.” I paused. “I can’t answer most of them.”
“What do you tell them?”
“That I’m finding out too.” I set the mug down. “They seem to accept that. More than I expected.”
“Children are often more gracious with honesty than we give them credit for.” Bea studied me. “And Luca in particular. He respects people who don’t pretend.”
“He takes after Colt in that.”
Bea smiled. “Maybe.” She tilted her head. “Or maybe you.”
Chapter 21
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— Lilac —
“You’re going.” Indira stood in Betty’s kitchen with her arms crossed, blocking my escape route. Behind her, Betty was nodding vigorously, a co-conspirator I hadn’t seen coming.
“I have the boys—”
“Dutch and I will watch them. They love hanging out at the clubhouse, and Handful promised to teach them more card tricks.” Indira’s expression softened slightly. “Lilac. When’s the last time you went on a date?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. I had dated, for a stretch after the boys turned three. Martin—an accountant. He arrived at work at nine sharp every morning, had lunch from noon to one, same sandwich every day, out the door at five. Stable in a way I thought I wanted. It had still felt like wearing someone else’s coat. I’d stopped without much grief and hadn’t tried again. Not because I didn’t want to date. I just hadn’t met anyone who interested me.
“That’s what I thought.” Indira stepped closer, taking my hands in hers. “One dinner. That’s all I’m asking. Colt’s been showing up for the boys every day for weeks. Let him show up for you.”
“We have dinner here all the time—”
“With Betty as a chaperone and two six-year-olds demanding attention.” Indira raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a date. That’s family dinner. There’s a difference.”
Betty finally spoke up. “She’s right, dear. You and Colt need time alone. Time to actually talk without little ears listening.”
“What would we even talk about?”
“Anything. Everything.” Indira squeezed my hands. “You’re so busy being co-parents that you’re forgetting to be two people who are supposed to be getting to know each other. He was your husband, Lilac. Even if you don’t remember it. Don’t you want to find out why you married him in the first place?”
