Page 145 of Mr. Infuriating

Sporting the trademark Mitchell grin when she took a big spoonful, she mumbled, “I know,” around a mouth full of food.

I finished packing Gretchen’s lunch under Britt’s watchful eye. I forewent adding a heart when I wrote her name on the brown paper bag, then set it on the counter to go in search of the diaper bag.

After ensuring there were a minimum of ten diapers that I assumed her daycare required, I set the bag next to her lunch, along with her satchel and file folder I’d retrieved from the basement, where she’d left them the night before.

My daughter noticed it all as she rinsed her cereal bowl in the sink and commented, “You really like her.”

Remembering our conversation in the car yesterday, I hesitated before answering.

“Well, yeah. She’s a nice lady.”

“I like her, too. She and Jake seemed to fit in well here.”

They do, don’t they?

I didn’t want to give her false hope, so I warned, “Let it go, Britt.”

“I’m just saying, we’ve got plenty of room. I bet it would be easy to turn the guest room into a little ki—”

“I said, drop it.”

I rarely had to raise my voice with my kids, and I’d done it twice in less than twenty-four hours. But just like yesterday, my resilient kid was undeterred.

“Okay…” But of course, she didn’t drop it. “I’ve never seen you smile at a woman like you do at her.”

“Well, yeah. We’ve already established I think she’s nice.”

“Dad,” she let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t likeanyonewho isn’t family. So, that means you think of her as family.”

I didn’t have a response to that, so I grumbled, “Go get ready for school.”

Damn kids.

They thinkthey’re so smart.

Was she right, though?

****

Gretchen

For the first time since I returned to work after maternity leave, I arrived at schoolearly.

It had been nice having Gabe’s help this morning, and I couldn’t help but smile when I put the sack lunch he’d made me into my mini fridge. My normally harried morning had almost felt easy, and I appreciated how he’d been willing to help me.

It was a far cry from how my days had started when Troy and I had been together.

Believe it or not, my mornings had actually gotten easier once he moved out. I didn’t have to worry about keeping Jake quiet—not an easy feat with a toddler, for fear of waking my ex. I’d tiptoe around and shush my little boy if he made the slightest noise; I was in a constant state of anxiety.

But, I’d reasoned, it was the least I could do with how much Troy worked all the time. I hadn’t been able to fathom working such long hours.

God, I’d been so naïve.

The morning with Gabe gave me a glimpse of what being with a real partner would look like, and I realized I wanted that for me, Jake, and my future children.

A hint of sadness overcame me to know it wouldn’t be with Gabe.

As he’d carried Jake to my car he’d already started so it was warm when we got in, I remembered thinking,so this is what simpatico feels like.

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