Page 29 of Anything But Lonely

Kids notice things adults miss. They don't compare people because they look alike. They compare them because they feel alike.

So what, exactly, does Emerson feel like to my son?

Ding.

“Waffies!” Crew shouts, all thoughts of Emerson and Pepper abandoned as he bolts toward the sound.

As I slide Crew's waffles onto his plate, I sneak a glance toward the table. Emerson's already pulled out the chair beside him, completely unaware I'm watching. Or if she is, she couldn’t care less.

"Those are spooky pajamas," she says, pointing to the little bats and ghosts printed across his shirt.

Crew beams. "They're Halloween pajamas."

"Even better."

Just like that, they're off, debating whether Halloween is the greatest holiday ever created.

"It's better than Christmas," Crew insists.

Emerson pretends to contemplate the statement. "You know what? I think you're right."

Crew launches into an explanation about pumpkins and skeletons and how witches are "not actually scary," while Emerson listens like every word out of his mouth deserves her full attention. She doesn't nod absentmindedly or smile just to humor him. She asks questions, lets him interrupt himself, laughs at the parts that don't make sense because he's four and they aren't supposed to.

It's effortless.

Like she's known him longer than the ten minutes she's actually spent with him.

I set my own breakfast on the counter, but I barely notice it.

And for a moment, I can’t think of a better way to spend my time than watching Emerson get to know my kid.

CHAPTER 13

EMERSON

Thank fuck Crew is a cool kid.

I’ve worked for dozens of families over the years, and I can only count on one hand how many of the kids were going to grow up to be humans who didn’t suck.

He’s smart and cute, and he’s used to adults with piercings and tattoos, enough not to ask me a billion questions about them. He’s good with change, taking it in stride, and I already feel like I’ve known him for weeks, not just a few hours.

Mateo and his ex-wife did a good job.

“Your turn,” Crew beams, completely content and entertained with building a stack of blocks as tall as we can until it falls over.

“You got pretty high for only your first time,” I tell him, holding my palms out for him to give me a few of the blocks he still had in his hands.

Crew smiles. “I want to build a tower as tall as Daddy!” He holds his arms up as high as he can from where he sits criss-crossed in front of me. “And then I can show him when he’s done with sing check.”

I roll my lips together to hide my smile as I look towards the stage where Cross My Heart talks in a huddle. We’re sitting on a blanket in the grass, the outdoor stage with the four guys and their stage crew only about twenty feet away from where we’re sitting.

After breakfast, I offered to get Crew ready for the day so Mateo had some time for himself before he had to be at the venue for sound check. Since this is a bigger venue, they had an earlier time to account for lighting and staging tests. I had time this morning to read through the tour schedule Mateo had forwarded to me when I finally got myself out of bed. And it’s safe to say the three of us will be busy these next eight months.

Which is exactly what I need.

The quicker I dive into this new job, the easier the days will start to feel.

Because it was a feat to even just get up and get dressed this morning.