Page 73 of Weather Girl

“This is where I fell off my bike the moment after my training wheels came off,” I say, pointing to a row of mailboxes. “And this is where I’d park with my boyfriends so no one could catch us making out. Now there aren’t enough trees here—no good make-out spots. I really feel for today’s teenagers.”

“This is a very enlightening tour.”

We stop at a playground, one with monkey bars and slides and a handful of equipment I’ve never seen before.

“What the hell,” I say as Russell and I sit on a pair of swings. “This playground is ridiculous. Is that, like, an interactive climbing wall?”

“Yeah, we definitely didn’t have that in Michigan, either.”

“It may be a bougie playground, but at least there’s no one here,” I say, aware I’m talking a little too much. Avoiding the real issue. “We don’t have to be the creepy adults on the swings.”

Russell scuffs the bougie bark with his shoe. “So.”

“So.” No more stalling. I let out a long breath, working up to it. “I’m really glad you came. Thank you.”

“Of course. We’re...”

A strange laugh slips out. “Yeah. What are we, Russell?”

I hope he knows that having him here means I’m fully in this with him. And if he’s not, well—then I need to know.

“I didn’t miss how you acted last week with the Hales,” he says quietly, still staring down at the bark. “After what I said about Elodie.”

“About how you weren’t exactly in the market for a stepmom?”

This draws his face into a grimace. “You, ah, remember the precise wording, huh.”

“It was kind of hard to forget.”

“That was... not the right thing to say. Especially in front of the Hales. I’m so sorry.” He brings his eyes up to mine, and I can tell he means it. Until that night, he was so sure of me in a way I’ve always struggled to feel about myself. I want that back. “I can tell you I didn’t intend for it to hurt you, but I know that doesn’t make it more okay. This is all new for me. I’m not used to thinking about anyone but Elodie—not even myself, if I’m being honest.”

“I can understand that,” I say, because even if I can’t relate, I can imagine.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be a boyfriend and a father at the same time.”

My heart plummets. Maybe it’s as simple as that: he can only be one, and he’s made his choice. “Oh.”

But Russell shakes his head, not finished yet. “I want to, Ari. Believe me, I do. But I haven’t exactly had a lot of practice. I’m always worried someone will think Elodie is a burden, or baggage, or they won’t want to get to know her at all.”

I reach down, covering his hands with mine. I can do that now—hold him with both hands. “Elodie is not a burden. She’s amazing, and a huge part of that is because of you, and because of Liv. You’re a great dad.”

“Don’t give me too much credit there,” he says, but he seems softer than he did ten minutes ago. There’s pride in his expression, and I love the way it looks on him. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure to spend time with her.”

“Russ. I’d love to spend more time with Elodie.”

He brightens even more. “Yeah? Because she’s been asking about you since last weekend. You must have made quite the impression.”

“It was the show tunes,” I say. “Very few things tie people together like show tunes. And burritos.” Then I turn serious again. “You don’t have to choose—between fatherhood and a relationship. You deserve both. I mean, I know you’re going to be a father regardless of whether I’m here, I’m just—” I break off, drawing in a breath. “This is coming out wrong. What I’m trying to say is, I want to try. We won’t be perfect at it, at least not right away, but if you’re ready, I want to try.”

He links his fingers with mine. “I’m ready,” he says, bringing his other hand to my face, his thumb stroking my cheekbone in this way that makes me feel safe. Cared for.

“I’ve been scared, too,” I admit, our feet still planted in the bark as our swings sway. “I don’t know if I have the best track record with relationships. I’ve never really been... myself.”

Russell drops his hand to my shoulder and waits for me to continue. Listening, but not pushing me.

“For the longest time, everyone has gotten me at full brightness. Every light in the studio on. No darkness, no negativity. Every time I feel something like that coming on, I force myself to act the opposite. I give a compliment or an affirmation to restore the balance, I guess. Or tip it the other way completely. I thought I had to be this very specific kind of person for anyone to want to be with me. And it worked for a while, or at least I thought it did. I even thought I was going to get married.”

The defense mechanism won’t make sense without the explanation. I knew there was no way I could invite him here without unlocking that barricaded door of my past, and yet that knowledge doesn’t make forming the words any easier.

---