Page 13 of Mom-Com
His little face scrunched up. “Why does it matter what shirt I wear if it’s my foot I’m forwarding? Do you mean shoes, Dad?”
I resisted the urge to run my hands through my hair. My new wax pomade was not designed for fathers of eight-year-old boys. “Get a new shirt on, buddy. How about that blue one we bought the other day?”
He rolled his eyes and ran out the bedroom door, hopefully able to get out of that old shirt before it started restricting blood flow. By the time I finished rolling my pants and sweater with a lint roller, Stein was back, the blue polo shirt over his jeans.
“Ready?”
He gave me a head nod, and while he might have been ready to go to dinner, I could tell he wasn’t ready to talk to me. He always went silent when he was mad at me. I thought of my list again and remembered the one about well-behaved children and refraining from yelling at them in front of the ladies. I wasn’t a yeller anyway, but considering how badly I was messing everything else up, I’d better cover all my bases.
I walked to the front door and Stein followed behind me. Before I opened it, I crouched down and tugged him to me.
“We’re meeting new friends, so let’s be on our best behavior, all right?”
His gray eyes stared back at me with so much trust, I wanted to freeze time and hug him to my chest for all eternity. That piercing ache in my chest? That was love. But from my experience, and those in my circle, that kind of love was not possible in a romantic way. It was puppy-dog eyes and holding hands and being obnoxiously cute in public, but it wasn’t an arrow straight through the chest that you’d gladly live with for the rest of your life if you could only get to love that someone. Romantic love wasn’t truly love at all. At best, it was affection.
“Oh! I almost forgot.” I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the bouquet of flowers I’d kept in a vase of water since I got home from my last class of the day. Bright yellow sunflowers with pink roses and white baby’s breath. They’d reminded me of Lily-Marie when I saw them, so I went with it.
“Let’s do this, Stein-man.” I held out my fist, which he bumped with his small one, and off we marched next door.
I lifted my hand to knock on the door, but it swung open, revealing Lily-Marie’s daughter.
“Hello. You must be Mr. MacMill and Stein.” Her blond curls were a messy halo around her head. Even as we heard Lily-Marie call her from the back of the house, reminding her not to open the door, her gap-tooth smile stayed in place. She shrugged her little shoulders and I struggled to hold in my chuckle.
“Milly, you know better than to answer the door without me.” Lily-Marie walked up to the door and I nearly squashed the flowers before I remembered to lighten my grip. “Welcome, gentlemen.” Her smile lit up, its wattage matching the bright yellow dress she had on.
Without taking my eyes off her face, I pushed Stein forward and entered the house behind him. I thrust the flowers in the space between us, a strange quaking beginning in my torso region when her eyes lit up at the offering.
She put her hands on the bouquet, her pinkie brushing against mine. “Thank you so much for the flowers. They’re beautiful!” Another dazzling smile and then she was whirling around, taking the flowers and my attention into the kitchen.
“Dad?” Stein tugged on my arm and I turned with a start, remembering the kids were in the room too. “Mind if I go out back and play with Clark?”
I nodded quickly and smiled absentmindedly, my gaze split between him and Lily-Marie’s backside. “Sure, sure. Go have fun, son.”
He ran out of the room with Clark, Milly following behind, an energetic ball of short limbs trying to move fast enough to keep up with the boys. I followed Lily-Marie into the kitchen to find her scrounging around a bottom cabinet, her pretty dress brushing against the floor. Moving quickly to her side, I squatted down and offered assistance.
“Here, let me help you.”
She pulled her head out of the cabinet, her cheeks flushed pink. “Thanks. I know I have a vase in here somewhere.”
I leaned in closer to get a better view of the dimly lit space, ever conscious of her body just inches away from mine. If I leaned just a bit to the right, I’d be close enough to kiss her.
Not that I had any intention of doing that.
Just that I could have. If I’d wanted to. Which I didn’t.
My sweater suddenly seemed like a bad choice as it was a million degrees in this house. No wonder she was blushing. We were in danger of heatstroke.
Before I could pass out from dehydration, I spotted a sparkling crystal vase in the back of the cabinet. I reached as far in as my long arms would allow and scooped it out, handing it to her and standing up.
I swayed for a second, thinking I just might pass out after all. Black dots swam in my vision and I gripped the counter to stay upright. The collar of my shirt was restricting air flow, so I gave it a stiff tug and blinked my eyes. The dots went away as I focused on Lily-Marie filling the vase with water and arranging the flowers, her back to me.
“These are just gorgeous. You know it’s funny, I’m so used to people getting me lilies that I’ve come to hate them.” She glanced over her shoulder at me, that smile just as dazzling as the first time I saw it.
I shook my head, confused. “Why would everyone get you lilies?”
Her smile froze. She set the flowers down and spun around, crossing her arms over her chest. “Jameson MacMillan. What is my name?”
I scrunched up my face, unsure why I was in trouble. “Lily-Mar—oh, I get it.” Jesus H. Christ, I needed to get my act together. She would think I was some sort of dimwit when the reality was that her smile short-circuited my brain every single time.
