Page 75 of A Bond with the Dark

“No, I’m good here, thanks. I think you have a Mario Kart date with a ten-year-old.” I smile, placing a rinsed dish in the dishwasher.

“All right, holler if you need me.”

He kisses me swiftly on the cheek and retreats.

Within minutes, there is laughter and happy screams coming from the living room. As I grin to myself about how the whole night is going down, I’m debating on how to bring up this thing I want him to tell me.

Is he a secret agent?

I feel silly.

If he is though, that does explain some of his strange behavior. But not all.

Superhero?

Magician?

Witch?

That’s it! He’s a witch like me and that’s how he knew I was and gave me the bracelet. He’s a witch.

But if he is, then why has he not come right out and say it?

So many things swim through my mind, all while putting dishes away, cleaning up dinner, and watching the boys try beating each other in Mario Kart for a few rounds.

It’s still plaguing my mind as I follow behind Gauge while he crawls up the stairs to go to bed.

“It was so nice to meet you,” Gauge calls down to Dom through the banisters as he lands on the top stair. “Sorry for kicking your butt so hard in Mario Kart.”

“Nice to meet you too buddy! And I demand a rematch. Next time I come over, it’s on!”

“Okay, but that’s your butt!”

“Okay, head to bed,” I instruct, helping him up into the wheelchair we keep upstairs for him to get around up here.

“So, what do you think?” I ask Gauge after he has plopped himself into bed, making sure to keep my voice low. The way the house is built, sounds carry.

“I like him, Mama,” Gauge says through a yawn. “He’s good to you.”

“He is good to you,” I say, booping him on the nose. “And that is all that matters to me.”

“Well, I think you should keep him. He’s nice.”

I sure hope I can.

“Sweet dreams, my love. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mama. Goodnight.”

“Night-night,” I say, turning out the light and closing the door.

As I descend the stairs, I can see Dom sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone.

Nervousness bubbles up inside of me and I don’t know how I’m going to bring this up. I figure I’ll sit down and let it all spill out.

He glances at me as I make my way to the couch and sit next to him.

“Thank you for dinner tonight,” he says. “Your son is truly an amazing little man.”

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