Chapter 7
Jeannie
Friends in Strange Places
Of all the things I’d thought might happen when I brought my son to the free kids’ night at the ice-skating rink, Max swooping to the rescue of a young girl and that young girl having the hottest father possible definitely was not one of them.
I didn’t want to objectify the guy, and I appreciated all the different forms of masculine beauty, but goddamn, if this guy wasn’t just the crème de la crème.
His eyes were an intense green, and his thick, curly hair was just long enough to fall loosely around his head, almost effortlessly perfect in its imperfection.
His face looked like it had been carefully carved by a Renaissance sculptor, and he had downright stupidly long lashes.
And by stupidly, I meant incredibly attractive.
He was tall and muscled, and he had a thickness to his middle that reminded me of strongmen from strength competitions. God, his hand was the size of my entire face!
I’d been a bit awestruck when I came across him on his knees on the ice, looking at his injured daughter like she was the center of the whole world.
I had quickly told myself to curb my enthusiasm, because there was a really good chance that he was married.
I couldn’t see a ring on his hand, but he was wearing gloves—even if they were fingerless—so not seeing a wedding band meant nothing.
But then he dropped the bomb that his wife had died.
For just a hair of a second, I was horrified that he would use it as an excuse to hit on me—I’d heard of weirder things in my time—but from his reaction, I could tell he was just as shocked that those words had left his mouth as I was at hearing them.
I’d panicked, not knowing what to do, but it had put me more at ease, because he was clearly as good at putting his foot in his mouth as I was. It kind of put us on equal footing.
Heh, pun very much intended.
“So, that’s what you look like under there,” Remy said as he approached with a tray overloaded with food.
I still felt a bit guilty that he was spending so much on Max and me, but I wasn’t about to let my pride steal warm, tasty food from my son.
There was no way I could afford more than a single small hot chocolate.
Besides, this strange man feeding me and my son meant that the snacks in our bag could be saved for another day, so I was saving money, which really was a double win.
“What, were you afraid I had another mouth or something?” I shot back as he set the tray down.
The delicious aroma of the food tickled my nostrils, and my mouth began to water.
I hadn’t even realized I was hungry, but I’d skipped breakfast and only had a packet of ramen for dinner the previous night, so it made sense.
“Nah, not multiple mouths,” he said, grinning at me. “More like an Alien or Predator situation.”
I huffed, tossing my hair over my shoulder. “H.R. Geiger has nothing on this work of art,” I countered airily. And just like earlier, the two of us stared at each other before bursting into laughter.
Was it peak comedy? Absolutely not. There was no Netflix special in our future.
But that didn’t really matter. It was cool how easily this stranger and I were clicking.
I liked to think of myself as a fairly socially adept person, especially after everything I’ve gone through and all the complicated situations I’ve navigated in my life, but now that I thought about it, I hadn’t really interacted with any other people my age outside of work and my son’s medical team.
I hadn’t even realized that I had allowed my world to get so narrow, which I suppose wasn’t surprising given the circumstances.
“I don’t get the joke,” Max said, shooting me that puzzled expression he had whenever he was trying to solve something.
“It’s from movies you’re not old enough to watch yet,” I said. While I was aware that some parents would try to cushion such things, or even change the topic entirely, I always had a rule of being as honest with my son as possible when it was appropriate.
“Is it one I can watch when I reach double digits, one of the ones I can watch when I’m a teenager, or one of the ones where I need to be an adult?”
I was also very aware that my son reacted to such things a little differently than many children would have.
“I think somewhere between double digits and teenager. That part will be up to you and when you feel ready for it.”
“Cool!”
“I’m ten,” Addy said, seemingly back to normal after what must have been quite a shock to her system.
Poor girl. I couldn’t imagine suddenly discovering that I had a full-fledged phobia in the middle of a huge crowd of people who all had daggers on the bottom of their shoes. Not exactly a calming environment.
Nonetheless, I was glad Max had helped her, and that I’d been able to help Remy.
Now that I knew he was a single dad trying to enjoy the holidays and make special memories with his girls, I was even prouder that Max had pitched in to sort of save the day.
It was a small thing—a Band-Aid and talking the girl down from her panic—but it didn’t feel small to me, and I was sure it didn’t feel small to Addy or her father.
“Oh really?” I replied, not having to feign my interest. “Max here is right behind you.”
“Yep, I’m nine.”
“I thought you were my age,” Eva said. Perhaps I was mistaken, because she seemed shyer than her older sister, but she sounded disappointed.
Max, ever the optimist, didn’t interpret it that way. “Nope, I’m right smack-dab between the two of you!”
“Then why are you so small? You’re, like, tiny!”
I nearly dropped the drink Remy handed me. He froze. Max, however, was completely unruffled.
“It’s because I had cancer.”
And there it was.
I braced myself for things to get weird, but Eva just tilted her head to the side. “What’s cancer?”
“It’s when a cell or group of cells ignore the body’s signals to stop dividing. That causes uncontrolled growth and spread of those abnormal cells. It can spread through the entire body if left unchecked,” Addy said matter-of-factly. “There are, like, a billion different kinds.”
“Ohh,” Eva said, nodding sagely. “So, are you going to die?”
“Eva!” Remy chided.
Honestly, I kind of wanted to burst into laughter.
“What? Mommy’s sickness killed her.”
“Nah, I ain’t gonna die from cancer,” Max said, sounding pretty amused. “I’m in remission.”
“Re… mission? Like, a mission again?”
“No, it means his cancer has stopped multiplying,” Addy added without even looking at the two, her gaze completely focused on the hot dog being handed to her. Even though I wasn’t her parent, I knew that look well. Girl was hungry.
“You know a lot about cancer,” Max said, eagerly taking the pretzel and tater tots Remy handed to him. “Does someone you know have it?”
“No. I read a lot of medical journals when my mom was in the hospital.”
“Gotcha. And your mom’s dead, right?”
Oh my god!
“Max!” I chastised, but then Addy was answering like it was the most normal conversation in the world. Kids were really weird sometimes.
“Yeah. But she had a sickness since she was born, so she made sure we understood it and that we were ready for when things happened.” The girl grimaced. “I wish it hadn’t, you know. But I think it’s better than what a lot of other kids have had to go through when one of their parents dies.”
I really had no idea what to say. Our children were having a full-blown conversation about debilitating illnesses and familial death like it was completely natural. I looked at Remy, and was somewhat mollified when he looked as bewildered as I felt.
“I miss her,” Eva said, through a mouthful of her burger. “But we visit her a lot.”
“Visit her where?”
“At her grave.”
“Oh, I’ve never been to a grave. Is it nice?”
“Technically, she’s not really there. We scattered most of her ashes and buried her urn, but it’s where we visit her to talk,” Addy chimed in. “That makes it nice.”
Resting my chin in my hand, I watched them talk about topics children usually wouldn’t have any interest in.
The three had a sort of connection I’d never expected.
Maybe it came from experiencing too much too fast, or maybe it came from having a lot of empathy.
Whatever the reason, I certainly never could have predicted this.
“Do you wanna try my tater tots? I don’t think I can eat all this.”
“Sure! Do you want my pickle? I only like pickles when they’re really cold, and this is hot from the burger,” Eva said.
Just like that, the conversation moved on. Remy and I shared another confounded look. I doubted I’d ever identified with a stranger so much. Was this the universe trying to show me that I needed to get out more and socialize, or was it trying to warn me that my son was a little bit freaky?
Eh, maybe both.
The kids started scarfing down their food, and Remy and I had to pause eating a couple of times to remind them to chew.
Even Max, who was normally a glacial eater at best, was devouring his food.
Hmmm, maybe that was the secret. Have him do a challenging exercise with a little dash of adrenaline, and bada bing bada boom, suddenly he has an appetite.
Not a bad strategy. Clearly, the walks we’d been taking weren’t quite as stimulating as I had thought.
The kids finished way before Remy and I did, and I worried they would get bored, but no, they went right back to their uncomfortably frank conversation.
Then again, maybe we adults could learn from them.
Touchy subjects were only touchy if we treated them as such, right?
If everyone was enjoying themselves and comfortable, maybe there was no need to be apprehensive.
“Are you going to be tiny forever?”