nerves.
“Is he here? Do you see him?” She looks around wildly.
“No, baby. He isn’t here yet. Let’s get a table and wait.”
“He’s coming, isn’t he, mom?” she asks in a small voice. I reach across the table to her, resting my hand on hers.
“He’s definitely coming, baby. We’re early. He’ll be here soon.”
The waitress comes by and asks us for our drink orders. Elody orders a chocolate shake, while I go with a coffee. Just as the waitress walks away to fill our order, I look over Elody’s head to the door and all the air leaves my lungs in a rush as Brock enters. He looks good. Really good. He’s wearing jeans and a red tee-shirt that has the name of a football team across the front of it. He spots us immediately and begins striding toward us with purpose. Nervously, I look to Elody, but she’s oblivious with her back to him. Just before he reaches our table, I look back to him.
He sees the nervousness and apprehension on my face and gives me a small, easy smile. He comes to a standstill behind Elody’s chair so she still can’t see him. He’s giving me the lead. Letting me play this my way .
“Uh, Elody, honey?”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, Mom,” I chide.
“Yes, Mom,” she repeats.
“There’s someone here who would like to meet you,” I say gently. “Turn around, baby.”
She spins around fast, almost falling off the chair. Brock’s hand darts out and he steadies her. I watch in complete, enraptured, frozen fascination. I hear her gasp, but the only thing I can see is Brock’s face. His eyes go soft, his mouth goes a little lax, and then he breaks out in a heart-stealing smile.
“Hi, Elody. It’s so great to finally meet you.”
“Hi,” she replies, her voice full of wonder.
“Can I take a seat?” Brock asks.
Elody nods her head vigorously and turns around.
The waitress brings our drinks and I smile apologetically at Brock. “Sorry, we ordered our drinks already.”
“That’s okay.” He glances over at Elody’s glass then looks to the waitress. “I’ll have a chocolate shake, please.”
“How was your day?” I ask him.
“Busy, as usual. How was yours?”
“Good, thank you. Busy,” I concede.
“I go to daycare,” Elody pipes in. “Miss Tracey is my teacher and she’s really fun. She’s going on a plane soon,” she gushes.
“That sounds exciting. Have you ever been on a plane?”
“No. But, I want to. Mom says one day we can. We’re going to fly to the beach and tan our milky butts.”
I laugh. I’ve said that to her many times. Elody takes a sip of her drink and while she’s amused, Brock takes the opportunity to whisper in my ear.
“I think your butt’s the perfect color as it is.”
I splutter my coffee and clear my throat. He smirks; knowing the beet-red of my cheeks is his doing.
The rest of the afternoon goes surprisingly well. We order food and eat it. Brock and Elody talk a lot and ask each other a bunch of questions. They’re so alike, and seeing them side by side only reinforces that fact. By the time we’ve been here for two hours, I am a whole lot more relaxed and I notice a distinct family dynamic appearing. Elody is absolutely reveling in the attention that Brock is heaping on her. She’s basking in his approval and lapping up his praise.
“You can come to my house for dinner!” Elody announces. “Mommy can cook and we can eat it at my special pink table that I got for Christmas. My Barbie can sit with us, too.”
“Uh, I think Brock, I mean, uh, your dad, has other plans, honey,” I stammer.
“I don’t, actually,” Brock says casually.
“See, Mom?! He doesn’t! He can come, can’t he? You can come, can’t you? Please?” She bounces around between us. “Please,” she whines.
“I guess that will be fine. As long as Br, uh, your dad, has no other plans.”
“Yay!” she squeals.
“I’ll give you my
“Is he here? Do you see him?” She looks around wildly.
“No, baby. He isn’t here yet. Let’s get a table and wait.”
“He’s coming, isn’t he, mom?” she asks in a small voice. I reach across the table to her, resting my hand on hers.
“He’s definitely coming, baby. We’re early. He’ll be here soon.”
The waitress comes by and asks us for our drink orders. Elody orders a chocolate shake, while I go with a coffee. Just as the waitress walks away to fill our order, I look over Elody’s head to the door and all the air leaves my lungs in a rush as Brock enters. He looks good. Really good. He’s wearing jeans and a red tee-shirt that has the name of a football team across the front of it. He spots us immediately and begins striding toward us with purpose. Nervously, I look to Elody, but she’s oblivious with her back to him. Just before he reaches our table, I look back to him.
He sees the nervousness and apprehension on my face and gives me a small, easy smile. He comes to a standstill behind Elody’s chair so she still can’t see him. He’s giving me the lead. Letting me play this my way .
“Uh, Elody, honey?”
“Yeah?”
“Yes, Mom,” I chide.
“Yes, Mom,” she repeats.
“There’s someone here who would like to meet you,” I say gently. “Turn around, baby.”
She spins around fast, almost falling off the chair. Brock’s hand darts out and he steadies her. I watch in complete, enraptured, frozen fascination. I hear her gasp, but the only thing I can see is Brock’s face. His eyes go soft, his mouth goes a little lax, and then he breaks out in a heart-stealing smile.
“Hi, Elody. It’s so great to finally meet you.”
“Hi,” she replies, her voice full of wonder.
“Can I take a seat?” Brock asks.
Elody nods her head vigorously and turns around.
The waitress brings our drinks and I smile apologetically at Brock. “Sorry, we ordered our drinks already.”
“That’s okay.” He glances over at Elody’s glass then looks to the waitress. “I’ll have a chocolate shake, please.”
“How was your day?” I ask him.
“Busy, as usual. How was yours?”
“Good, thank you. Busy,” I concede.
“I go to daycare,” Elody pipes in. “Miss Tracey is my teacher and she’s really fun. She’s going on a plane soon,” she gushes.
“That sounds exciting. Have you ever been on a plane?”
“No. But, I want to. Mom says one day we can. We’re going to fly to the beach and tan our milky butts.”
I laugh. I’ve said that to her many times. Elody takes a sip of her drink and while she’s amused, Brock takes the opportunity to whisper in my ear.
“I think your butt’s the perfect color as it is.”
I splutter my coffee and clear my throat. He smirks; knowing the beet-red of my cheeks is his doing.
The rest of the afternoon goes surprisingly well. We order food and eat it. Brock and Elody talk a lot and ask each other a bunch of questions. They’re so alike, and seeing them side by side only reinforces that fact. By the time we’ve been here for two hours, I am a whole lot more relaxed and I notice a distinct family dynamic appearing. Elody is absolutely reveling in the attention that Brock is heaping on her. She’s basking in his approval and lapping up his praise.
“You can come to my house for dinner!” Elody announces. “Mommy can cook and we can eat it at my special pink table that I got for Christmas. My Barbie can sit with us, too.”
“Uh, I think Brock, I mean, uh, your dad, has other plans, honey,” I stammer.
“I don’t, actually,” Brock says casually.
“See, Mom?! He doesn’t! He can come, can’t he? You can come, can’t you? Please?” She bounces around between us. “Please,” she whines.
“I guess that will be fine. As long as Br, uh, your dad, has no other plans.”
“Yay!” she squeals.
“I’ll give you my
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