Page 55 of Foster

“I just want you fully with me.”

She nods and the forlorn look on her face squeezes my heart. I roll to the side and pull her into my arms. She snuggles in close, arm going around my waist. I kiss the top of her head, ignoring how uncomfortable I am still in my dress shirt, pants, belt and shoes. I know she can’t be comfortable either.

Still, I don’t let her go. I don’t push her out of my bed.

I merely kiss the top of her head and ask, “Will you go out on another date with me?”

CHAPTER 21

Mazzy

The incoming chime of the text sends a surge of exhilaration through me and I’m not sure what it says about me specifically that I immediately hope it’s from Foster. It’s been three days since our date and he’s been gone the entire time on a road trip.

I grab my phone from the kitchen counter—where I had been organizing Foster’s spices into a new spice rack I bought on Amazon—and see that it’s from my mom.

It’s not a letdown though because it’s always a joy to hear from my family.

Just wanted to confirm you and Bowie Jane are coming for Sunday dinner, it says.

Foster will be back from New York tonight and will be here through Saturday with two more home games before heading off for an extended trip to the West Coast. I’m in full nanny mode and we’ve gotten into a good rhythm of balancing my hours watching Bowie Jane and me taking time off. He’s arranged for alternate coverage for Bowie Jane later this week to give me a break.

I shoot back a quick text to my mom. We’ll be there. Let me know what you want me to bring.

Her reply is just as fast. I’ve got it all handled. Just bring yourselves.

I smile, because that’s my mom… wanting to handle everything. The quintessential career woman who still tries to be the perfect mother by keeping the house clean and cooking wonderful meals when she can. Sometimes I wonder if she feels guilty because she worked while we were growing up. I particularly wonder if she has regrets about Landon and Mason because part of my teenage years were spent helping to care for them. We’ve never really discussed it but maybe I should bring it up to her.

I almost set my phone back down when I’m compelled to pull up the text thread I have going with Foster. I glance over at Bowie Jane who’s deep into doing her math homework at the kitchen nook table.

Foster texted me this morning. Good morning, sunshine.

He sends that to me every morning and it makes me feel good that I’m on his mind.

I texted back, Good morning, hot stuff. Sleep well?

He responded immediately and I imagined he was in his hotel in New York lying in bed, perhaps with a cup of coffee beside him. I slept very well. What’s on the agenda today?

It was going to be a busy day and I could’ve just said that, but Foster likes to know details. It makes him feel connected. After I drop Bowie Jane off at school, I’m going to get some laundry done. Then I’m going to go over to Leo’s to rehearse. We have an upcoming gig at a bar and we’ve added some new material. And then later I have to run out and get a pair of black pants and a white shirt for Bowie Jane.

Foster shot back an angry emoji face. Damn. I forgot to do that.

Bowie Jane joined the fourth and fifth grade choir at her new school and they’re having a recital next week. All the kids have to wear black pants and white shirts. No worries. I have it covered. Please remember that’s part of my job. You don’t have to do everything, Dad.

I hear you, he wrote back. Thank you for taking such good care of us.

I didn’t want the conversation to end. Bowie Jane and I are going to make quesadillas tonight for dinner. She wants to learn how so she can make them for you since they’re your favorite.

That kid loves her dad so much and I never want to miss an opportunity to remind him of that. His reply was expected—a mixture of dad pride and a joke to slough off the emotion. She’s growing up too fast. Ten years old and already cooking. Please don’t let her burn the house down.

I laughed as I responded, Got it covered.

I waited, seeing what he would say next. The three dots pulsed and then disappeared, pulsed and then disappeared again. It indicated to me—whether it was true or not—that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. But when his words came through, they left a smile on my face all day. Can’t wait to see you when I get back.

Same, I replied. And then because it felt right, I put a heart emoji.

Reading back through that text exchange, I have to admit I never thought this relationship with Foster would turn into anything. I figured we’d have our date and then the fascination would be done. I certainly never thought that our dinner three nights ago would turn into something beyond a good-night kiss at the end of the evening, since we’d both been clear that’s what we wanted the night I cut my finger.

The dinner itself was perfection. I’ve never conversed with someone who is so interested in every facet of my life, except maybe my parents. The guys I’ve dated always wanted to hear themselves talk or brag about their accomplishments. Foster was the exact opposite. He peppered me with thoughtful questions, wanted to know everything about my family, my dreams, hell… my entire existence.

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