Page 48 of Seasoned
“Or I could just as easily have done it myself.”
“You? The woman I was married to for twenty-five years, who I happen to know hates yard work? Danny and I will take care of the lawn. He’ll cut, I’ll edge.”
“What?” His offer to help surprised her. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but it needs to be done.”
That’s the kind of man he was. A gets-things-done kind of man. From the moment she’d told him she was pregnant, he started planning their future, and she went along with his every decision—confident and secure she was in good hands. After all, she had no one else. A year after he moved out, she still didn’t know what to do with herself.
Hence, the culinary arts course. It would be hers, and she’d be damn good at it. If she ever got the courage to actually sign up for the classes.
Hector looked up at the sky and then checked his watch. “If we start now, we can finish before it gets dark. I’m going to get Danny.”
He didn’t wait for her response. He went into the house, and Adelaide stayed outside.
She should have told him no. She’d find someone to cut the grass or she’d do it with Daniel. But she’d remained silent. Because in addition to missing him in her bed or hearing his comforting voice in the house, she missed the little things she’d taken for granted when they lived together.
Something as simple as fastening a bracelet on her wrist had become an effort in acrobatics, and there were so many other tasks he used to take care of. He took out the trash the night before pickup. Washed her car. For years she’d never had to put gas in her car because he made sure she had a full tank when the gauge dropped below the halfway point.
He was old-fashioned, but she didn’t mind. They both had their roles, and they willingly and happily filled them. Delineating tasks worked for them.
That’s what that itchy, uncomfortable feeling meant. Having him here reminded her of how much she missed…and needed him.
4
Adelaide went out into the front yard carrying two bottles of ice-cold water.
“Thanks, Mom,” Daniel said, taking one.
“Thanks.” Hector’s fingers grazed hers as he took the second bottle. The shock of touching her skin, even for that brief moment, was so great that he almost dropped the bottle. She stepped away quickly, almost too quickly, and put their son between them.
Hector took an appreciative swig of the water.
“What do you think, Mom?”
“It looks like a brand-new lawn,” she gushed.
Adelaide had a way of making you feel as if the simplest accomplishment was a feat of gigantic proportions, but the yard did look 100 percent better. He and Daniel gave the front and back yards a facelift. With the work they’d done, they could easily be in contention for the neighborhood beautification award.
Adelaide ran a hand over their son’s head, playing with his curls until he squirmed out of her grasp. “Quit, Mom!” He swatted away her hand and dodged when she reached for him again.
They both laughed, as if Hector wasn’t there. How ridiculous that he was jealous of this moment between his ex-wife and his son, but the need to be touched in the same way—letting her fingers run through his hair like they used to—the need to receive her playful smile—burned bright inside him.
Hector finished the water with two huge swallows.
“I’m going to take a shower before I head over to Jamie’s. See you later, Dad.”
“Bye, son.”
They bumped fists and Daniel entered the house, which meant once again he and his ex-wife were all alone. Adelaide’s gaze followed their son.
“He’s going to be fine,” Hector said.
“I know. I can’t help but worry, though.” She sent a tentative smile in his direction. “Can you believe we’re going to be grandparents already? We used to joke about wanting a bunch of grandkids in our golden years.”
“Yeah, but I figured I’d be a little more golden than this,” Hector said.
“Me, too.” Adelaide laughed, and seeing that smile on her face lifted his spirits.
