Page 36 of Reaper
My son’s eyes widen. “You’re taking me to the zoo?”
“I wanna go,” Heidi says.
“We’re all going,” he informs them. “If your mom says it’s okay.”
I should say no. Every single person in this room is already getting too attached to what’s a temporary arrangement. Then I look at the excitement on my children’s faces and common sense loses the battle.
“It’s okay with me,” I finally say.
“If we’re going to the zoo, what’s in the bags?” Heidi asks, ever the curious little girl.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Reaper teases as he starts emptying the contents onto the coffee table. “We’ve gotdisposable cameras, sunscreen, snacks, water, juice, and safari hats.”
“What’s a camera?” Hunter asks, and I burst into laughter.
“What’s a…” Reaper looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “How does he not know what a camera is?”
It takes a minute to get myself under control, and when I do, I shake my head. “Nobody uses a camera anymore, Reaper. We use our cell phones.”
He stares at me for a moment, and I swear there’s confusion in his eyes. It makes no sense because he has a cell phone, and I’ve seen him taking pictures with it.
“Right, cell phones. I thought…” He takes a deep breath. “I guess I was trying to give them an old-fashioned adventure.”
Suddenly, I feel guilty for laughing. He seems so genuinely distraught. Fortunately, the twins save the day.
“An adventure!” Heidi exclaims.
“A real old-fashioned one,” Hunter adds.
And that sets the tone for the rest of the day. The zoo is a hit, not only with the kids, but also with me. Fun hasn’t been in my vocabulary very much the last six years, and I miss it. I miss… this.
Things between Jason and me weren’t always bad. There were good times, too. Times where I felt loved and appreciated and not so alone. Then he left, and I built my walls. I got so comfortable behind those barriers, and then Reaper came along.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… I don’t need a man in my life. But it is nice to have a friend.
“They’re tuckered out,” Reaper says when we pull into the driveway after a long day.
“They had fun.”
“Did you?”
“I did.” I turn in the passenger seat to face him. “What about you?”
“I had a blast.”
“It wasn’t…” I swallow past the now forming lump in my throat. “I mean, did your kids like the zoo, too?”
His face becomes a mask. “I don’t know. Never got around to taking them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The past is just that, the past.”
“You must miss them, though.”
Reaper glances away from me. “Every single day.”
“Yet you don’t want to talk about them.”
