Page 44 of When I Had You

Eyeing the paint that missed the paper and ended up on my outdoor table, I say, “Bigger mess?”

She laughs. “Yes, bigger mess than he already has.”

When she disappears inside, I’m left alone with my thoughts and the same smile I wore while talking to Marina before things turned at the end. I go back inside and grab my phone. Returning to the terrace, I look out over the city as the day starts fading. The weather couldn’t be better, but I noticed my mood improved considerably when I spoke to her.

She put herself out there and called. The least I can do is text.

You know . . . if we ever find ourselves in the same place again, we could have dinner together? And so there’s no confusion, this is me asking you out on a date.

Not leaving me to suffer, she texts:

If we found ourselves in the same place at the same time, it only makes sense to eat together. Who are we to say no if the opportunity presents itself?

“There’s that smile again,” my mom says, returning to sit at the table.

Cullen races outside and into my arms. With his arms wrapped around my neck, and mine around his torso, we hug. He says, “Bear hug. Roar.”

I dip my face into his shoulder and close my eyes. “I love you, buddy.”

“Love you, Daddy.” He pushes off me and runs to where his cars are set up on a rug closer to the door.

Catching my mom watching me, she gives me a smile in return. “Is she worth mentioning? Or something passing by.”

“I’m not sure.” I am sure of one thing, though—my mom is right. This smile feels different from what I’m used to. Cullen has me grinning in pride, love, and happiness just from being around him.

Marina . . . this smile feels different. It has hope entwined. And now I sound like a fucking poet. I should kick my own ass for even having that thought.

That doesn’t stop me from texting her back:

It’s a date.

Marina:

Same place. Same time. You’re on.

I managed to open communication back up by being honest. Should we be dating? Fuck no. Did I consider the repercussions before asking her out? Yes, I did. In detail? Nope. I led with my gut.

With my son playing with race cars and my mom soaking in the evening sun, I realize I’ve never played it safe. And my gut has never led me wrong.

* * *

Tuesday . . .

“Is this what we do now? Call each other each night like they did in When Harry Met Sally?” Marina asks the next night. East Coast late since she’s on the west coast of Canada eating a salad and watching The Bachelor finale with her friend.

“I never saw it.”

“You never saw it?” Her question is riddled with sheer astonishment that I’d have the audacity not to see every movie ever made just in case we decide to talk about it one night.

With Cullen already asleep, I lie in bed clicking through the channels before I decide to turn off the TV and listen to the sounds of the city and her instead. “It’s from the eighties, right?”

“Barely.” She huffs. “What am I going to do with you, Cash?”

“Shortcut to the plot so we’re on the same page.”

“They were old friends who call each other each night before bed to talk about their day.”

Even on the ninth floor, sirens can be heard. It makes it difficult to sleep when on the road due to the silence. “I suppose it’s one way to pass the time.”

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