boys. I tell them I’ll cut them off myself if I ruin this with her – they seem to obey.
She brushes her teeth and I rinse out the hand-towel, waiting for her body to stop the after-upchuck shakes.
“Come on, let’s get Matty awake, and we’ll go get breakfast.” I say to her reflection.
Her eyes widen and again, I find myself wanting to laugh. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
I shrug, not really knowing why. I should be a dick and chase her away, make her never want to see Matty and me ever again. Except I find myself unable to do that.
“You fed him. I’m going to feed you. We’ll be even.”
We’re at Chandra’s, one of Montreal’s oldest diners, where the smell of grease of fried eggs gets into your clothes, and the vinyl booths are ripped, spilling their guts out in cotton.
Sera slides in opposite me, after waiting for Matty to get the window seat. It’s not lost on me that they look good together, even if the kid looks nothing like her. They still fit, and if asked, I’m sure a lot of people would say they’re mother and son.
I hate the way she smiles at him, and the way he smiles at her like everything’s okay. I hate how tired I am, even though I suggested for all of us to go out and eat together. I hate that she can pick whatever she wants off the menu, and I can’t. I hate that if she were ever mine, we could never share food off the same plate.
I hate how she pulled back her hair instead of letting it down. I hate those fucking circles under her eyes because I needed to sleep without having to worry about Matty, and it possibly was the best sleep I’ve ever had. I hate how easily she’s accepted all this, even after she had a meltdown in the bathroom earlier.
I hate how I don’t even hate any of it at all.
“Please. I need coffee,” she says, looking around for our waitress, but I signal her over first. She grins.
“Between the two of you, I could probably sleep for the next forty-eight hours.” She yawns big and hard, not even bothering to cover her mouth. I think that’s cute, too.
“Can I have coffee?” the kid asks. I glare at him, since he’s not asking me, but his new favourite person. Christ, how old am I?
“No,” Sera and I both say at the same time. I start to smile, then remember that this has to be goodbye, that I’m not going to ask her to be with me and help me take care of Jules’ kid. Maybe when I get home, I should give Aly a call.
“You sure you want pancakes, little man? I think you should eat some eggs first, then work your way up,” I suggest.
“I want pancakes,” the kid tells me, arms crossed over his chest in defiance. It would be real bad form to start throwing plates and flipping tables right about now, but I still want to.
I settle for rubbing my eyes, and wishing I never asked Sera for breakfast, wishing I was in my bed, sleeping through the whole day.
“How about I order six pancakes. And you and Hunter can get eggs and bacon and all that good stuff. I’m super hungry, so I might just eat three of them. That means three left over for you and your dad, kid. How’s that sound?”
I hold my breath, then, “Okay.”
“But you need to eat all your eggs and bacon first. Pancakes are like dessert for breakfast,” she says, just like a mom would. I hate that, too.
I remove my hands and watch Matty nod without a fuss. Sera’s magic, and I want it.
We order, and then continue to stare at each other, both uncomfortable by the way she fidgets in her seat, and the way I can’t open my mouth and say thank you for saving my life.
“Daddy, remember when we went swimming, and I got scared when you went underwater for so long? Then I turned around and you were there! It was funny.”
Feeling that familiar tickle, like all the blood’s draining from my brain, I give the kid a weak smile and finish my glass of water. Shit, I’m thirsty. I didn’t know I was staring at Sera’s glass until she’s pushed it to my side,
She brushes her teeth and I rinse out the hand-towel, waiting for her body to stop the after-upchuck shakes.
“Come on, let’s get Matty awake, and we’ll go get breakfast.” I say to her reflection.
Her eyes widen and again, I find myself wanting to laugh. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
I shrug, not really knowing why. I should be a dick and chase her away, make her never want to see Matty and me ever again. Except I find myself unable to do that.
“You fed him. I’m going to feed you. We’ll be even.”
We’re at Chandra’s, one of Montreal’s oldest diners, where the smell of grease of fried eggs gets into your clothes, and the vinyl booths are ripped, spilling their guts out in cotton.
Sera slides in opposite me, after waiting for Matty to get the window seat. It’s not lost on me that they look good together, even if the kid looks nothing like her. They still fit, and if asked, I’m sure a lot of people would say they’re mother and son.
I hate the way she smiles at him, and the way he smiles at her like everything’s okay. I hate how tired I am, even though I suggested for all of us to go out and eat together. I hate that she can pick whatever she wants off the menu, and I can’t. I hate that if she were ever mine, we could never share food off the same plate.
I hate how she pulled back her hair instead of letting it down. I hate those fucking circles under her eyes because I needed to sleep without having to worry about Matty, and it possibly was the best sleep I’ve ever had. I hate how easily she’s accepted all this, even after she had a meltdown in the bathroom earlier.
I hate how I don’t even hate any of it at all.
“Please. I need coffee,” she says, looking around for our waitress, but I signal her over first. She grins.
“Between the two of you, I could probably sleep for the next forty-eight hours.” She yawns big and hard, not even bothering to cover her mouth. I think that’s cute, too.
“Can I have coffee?” the kid asks. I glare at him, since he’s not asking me, but his new favourite person. Christ, how old am I?
“No,” Sera and I both say at the same time. I start to smile, then remember that this has to be goodbye, that I’m not going to ask her to be with me and help me take care of Jules’ kid. Maybe when I get home, I should give Aly a call.
“You sure you want pancakes, little man? I think you should eat some eggs first, then work your way up,” I suggest.
“I want pancakes,” the kid tells me, arms crossed over his chest in defiance. It would be real bad form to start throwing plates and flipping tables right about now, but I still want to.
I settle for rubbing my eyes, and wishing I never asked Sera for breakfast, wishing I was in my bed, sleeping through the whole day.
“How about I order six pancakes. And you and Hunter can get eggs and bacon and all that good stuff. I’m super hungry, so I might just eat three of them. That means three left over for you and your dad, kid. How’s that sound?”
I hold my breath, then, “Okay.”
“But you need to eat all your eggs and bacon first. Pancakes are like dessert for breakfast,” she says, just like a mom would. I hate that, too.
I remove my hands and watch Matty nod without a fuss. Sera’s magic, and I want it.
We order, and then continue to stare at each other, both uncomfortable by the way she fidgets in her seat, and the way I can’t open my mouth and say thank you for saving my life.
“Daddy, remember when we went swimming, and I got scared when you went underwater for so long? Then I turned around and you were there! It was funny.”
Feeling that familiar tickle, like all the blood’s draining from my brain, I give the kid a weak smile and finish my glass of water. Shit, I’m thirsty. I didn’t know I was staring at Sera’s glass until she’s pushed it to my side,
Similar Books
