Page 8 of As the Years Pass
“Sorry, I didn’t notice the time,” Adam says, hopping off the stool.
“Neither did I,” I say, doing the same. “Give me a minute to grab my stuff, and I’ll see you out.”
I head into the office to gather my things. I make sure the back door is locked, then I turn off all the lights back here. Once back up front, I wave Adam over and we make our way to the door. I pull it open, and flick off the lights, and we leave. I lock the door with the key, and we head down the hallway and out onto the dark Seattle street. There’s a steady drizzle, something I was made aware of, but thought was being exaggerated. I haven’t seen a day here where it hasn’t rained yet.
I make sure the front door is locked, then turn to Adam.
“Do you need a ride home?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I live three blocks away.”
My eyes widen. “Shut up. Seriously?”
He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, seriously.”
“I can still give you a ride,” I say, not ready for this night to be over—not ready to watch him walk away.
He’s the reason I came here, and we’ve yet to say anything about seeing each other again. It’s clear he has a busy life, so this could be my only chance to get an in, to make a future plan, yet I can’t seem to just ask.
It’s been years since we talked. We haven’t spoken since our “break up,” if you can even call it that. We were never officiallydating, and he made that abundantly clear after things were done, because I couldn’t let it go as easily as he did. He moved on, but I never did, and I made that very clear.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so easy on him, after what he did to me, the way he hurt me, but I don’t blame him for all of that. It’s not entirely his fault. He was a kid as much as I was, and he was doing what he thought was right, what he thought he wanted. I can’t hold it against him. I won’t. He was a broken teenager looking for love in the places he thought he would find it.
“I don’t mind the walk,” he says. “It helps me sleep.”
“I can walk with you,” I say before I can think better of it.
Adam watches me carefully, and then he nods.
I have zero expectations of this night. I’m walking him to his home, then I’ll turn around and come back, get in my car, and go to my own house.
Of course, that doesn’t stop me from hoping for an invite up so we can spend more time together. I want to know what he’s been doing, and I want to know all about his kids. I just want to know everything, and I want to hear it from his two beautiful lips.
“So, do you have a babysitter or something?” I ask.
He’d told me that he has his kids every weekend, yet it’s Friday, and he isn’t with them.
“No, they’re with Leslie. It was her mother’s birthday yesterday, so they went out to dinner tonight.”
“Even though you hardly get to see them?” I say.
He shrugs. “They wanted to go.” I don’t miss the sadness in his voice, which makes me think this happens often.
It doesn’t sit right with me, but really, it’s none of my business. I don’t have kids. Never went through a separation. I don’t know the first thing about it, and I’m not here to judge. It’s just unfair, and I think that if her birthday was yesterday, they should have gone out to eat then instead of taking time away from Adam, who clearly doesn’t have much time with them to begin with.Maybe my feelings on the matter are strong because I grew up with a ton of kids who wished their parents wanted to spend time with them. My parents fostered hundreds of kids through the years. Some were good, some were bad, plenty were in between. But one thing was true for them all—they just wanted to be loved.
“Your kids are lucky they have two parents who love them,” I comment.
Adam chuckles. “I love the fuck out of those kids, man.”
“How old are they now?”
“Judy is seven. Ian is three.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me. They grow up so fast.”
Before I know it, he’s stopping in front of an apartment building. It’s not the nicest one on the street, but the neighborhood seems safe enough. I can’t imagine what he’s paying to live here, and I doubt it’s worth it since he’s only here on the weekends.
