Chapter 11 #2
“Haha, I love you too, baby girl.” Remy glanced at me. “Do you wanna punch your address into the GPS? We can do the closest corner store if you don’t want me to know where you live.”
“No, I don’t mind you knowing,” I answered honestly, although I was touched that Remy would be aware that such a thing was a risk for a single mother. “Besides, you’re going to need to know for the future playdates.”
I was trying my best not to get caught up in silly feelings or an inappropriate crush, but it was really hard to convince myself that was the right path when the corners of his eyes crinkled.
Honestly, I hadn’t really stopped smiling since we’d met at the rink.
Was that me just looking at everything with rose-colored glasses?
Or was life trying to tell me something?
“I can’t argue with your logic there,” he said, turning his eyes back to the road and the rather lengthy line we were stuck in.
I tended to get car sick, which was why I preferred to drive, but since we were mostly stationary, I was able to punch in my address without any adverse effects. While my days of reading in the car were long over, it was nice to know that I wasn’t completely useless.
A foreign sensation came over me as I embraced my passenger princess self.
I didn’t have to be useful. I could just sit and enjoy the sights, enjoy the conversation, without having to plan three steps ahead or be fully aware of our surroundings.
I’d been on my own for so long, I forgot what it was like to be taken care of, even in such a small way.
I’d also forgotten how much I liked it, even if one part of my mind whispered that it was a trap.
I did my best to ignore that. This wasn’t like the situation with my parents or the rest of their circle.
Remy was just a wonderful man trying to raise his daughters right after a terrible loss.
And man, oh man, were they turning out to be exceptionally lovely to my son.
That was one gift horse I would never look in the mouth.
The drive home was relatively uneventful. Eva and Addy were also drowsing in the backseat. I’d begun to wonder if they were little beings of perpetual energy. Then again, I was so used to Max’s needs for a lot of extra rest, that I wasn’t up to speed with other kids.
I glanced back at them. It was so sweet to see the three of them all chilled out and dozing while Christmas music played on the radio. They looked like siblings out on a holiday trip together, and they definitely got along like they’d always been in each other’s lives.
Goodness, that was a thought, wasn’t it?
Max had been completely unplanned. For a month after I’d found out, I’d searched my soul to make sure I was ready to bring a life into the world.
His father had sworn up and down that he would help me and be there for him, only to dump me at a rest stop a week after I decided to keep the baby.
Disappointing? Absolutely. But I never once regretted my choice.
What I did occasionally regret was that Max wouldn’t have a sibling.
Sometimes it felt unfair to him, but also, I knew it was the right choice.
I didn’t have the financial means, and I was sure if I’d had another child, I would have ended up neglecting them while Max was at his sickest, and that just wouldn’t be fair to them.
So, seeing the trio together was a bit of wish fulfillment on my part, but that was okay. It was also okay for me to daydream about what could have been as long as I didn’t let it distract me from what was.
Funnily enough, by the time we arrived at my place, I was stifling yawn after yawn.
I usually only went to bed somewhere around one to three in the morning, depending on how locked into my work I was, but tonight?
All the cold air, laughter, and sweet treats had given me such a warm, fuzzy feeling that I was ready to roll into bed. That was a rarity.
“Here we are,” I said as we approached my townhouse.
It was fairly small, and right at the limit of my budget, even with financial help from the charities available to us.
Honestly, I didn’t know where I’d be if I didn’t have state insurance, SNAP, and all the lovely people in our city who pitched in to make sure sick kids didn’t have to go without.
I was incredibly lucky I didn’t live in a state where medical debt counted against you, otherwise I’d have to add the fear of being homeless to my list of worries.
“Hey, Maxi-Bear,” I cooed, reaching into the back and gently shaking Max’s leg. It was a light touch through his fleece-lined jeans, but I swore I felt a bit more solid muscle instead of bone. The doctor had affirmed that he’d put on weight, but I loved feeling physical proof of it. “We’re home.”
“Wha?” he murmured, his small voice turning into quite the drawl. “Hmm?”
“We’re home, buddy. Do you need help getting out, or do you want me to get your wheelchair while you unbuckle yourself?”
“I got it,” he said, blinking a few times and smacking his lips. “Is… Wait, where… Where…?”
Oh, my poor baby. It wasn’t entirely unusual for him to have a hard time waking up, but it had been happening a lot less lately.
“We’re home, buddy,” I repeated.
“We gotta say goodbye,” Addy said through a yawn. “Friends say goodbye.”
Jeez, these kids had me by the heartstrings. “I couldn’t agree more. Friends always say goodbye.”
“You’re my friends!” Max blurted, jerking his head up and blinking several more times. “Friends.”
“There you go, my guy,” I said, patting his leg. “Why don’t you wake up just a little more while I go get your chair?”
“Okay. Can I… um… can I get the backpack?”
“The backpack?” I frowned as I unbuckled and stepped out of the van. “Why do you need that?”
“Stuff’s in there.”
That was good enough of an explanation, I supposed.
“Don’t worry, I’ll grab that for you lickety-split.”
“I’ll help you with the chair,” Remy said.
I didn’t really need his aid; it was an easily foldable chair, and he had quite a bit of room in his large “mommy mobile”—he’d called it that—but I didn’t turn it down.
I was reticent to end the night. If Max wasn’t so exhausted, I would have fought my own sleepiness to keep going.
I knew better than to push things, though, especially when it came to Max’s health.
Besides, I didn’t want to burn out my new friendship by becoming too invested too fast. I’d made that mistake in the past.
Remy popped the trunk and took out the chair, unfolding it once it was on the ground. I was a little impressed that he handled it so easily.
Right. Of course, he was used to transferring someone from a vehicle to a wheelchair. Duh.
I blushed, and a new wave of guilt bubbled up. Here I was, thirsting over a man who was in mourning. It had been almost a decade since I was involved with anyone, and I’d only slept with two people in my entire life, but that was no excuse.
“Thank you again. For everything,” I said.
“It was no problem, really. Thank you for lending your son to my girls. Not to be an alarmist, but I think they’d kidnap him if they could.”
“You think so?” I laughed, imagining the two girls sneaking into my house while I pretended not to notice and rolling Max out for adventures.
Wait.
Perhaps it was a bit late to have the revelation, but suddenly I realized Max had never gone out without me except that one year he’d spent in kindergarten.
Huh, maybe he was due to be kidnapped by the LeBeau duo.
“The backpack!” Grabbing it, I rushed to the side of the van and slid open the door to hand it to Max. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Mama.”
“No problem, big man. Want me to shut the door while you finish waking up?”
He shook his head. “You can just bring my chair around, if that’s okay?” Although he sounded much more awake, which would make it easier to get him out of the car and into the house, I knew he’d pass out again as soon as he was in bed.
“Coming right up!”
Leaving the door open like he asked, I went around the back and took the wheelchair handles from Remy. He seemed to be deep in thought. I raised my eyebrow, a silent question if everything was all right, but he just nodded and waved me on.
The silent communication felt so normal. After so much helter-skelter, the simple things really stood out to me.
With a warm buzz in my chest, I circled around the van. Addy and Max were both out of the car, the open backpack on the ground between them.
“What’s up?” I asked, sensing there was something important going on.
“I brought some things,” Max said, looking at Remy just behind me. “I brought this for you to read to Eva at bedtime. And for Addy to overhear but pretend that she isn’t listening.”
“Uncalled for,” Addy objected without any real heat to it.
“Don’t worry, you’re not losing any aura. Sometimes it’s nice to listen.” Max returned his attention to Remy and handed over the book.
A strange expression flitted over Remy’s face. “It’s about bears,” he said, his tone undecipherable.
“Yeah, Eva likes bears.”
“Bears!” Eva confirmed, holding her hands out for the book. “All the best people I know are bears.”
“That’s fair,” I replied. “A lot of the very best people I know are cats.”
Sometimes, you needed to correct a kid when they were being silly, and other times it was best to let a kid be a kid and meet them where they were at.
“It’s the story behind Winnie the Pooh,” Max continued. “I figured since bears are Eva’s favorite animal and she likes the way people tell stories sometimes more than the stories, that it would be lit.”
“Lit?” Addy said, waggling her eyebrows. “As in literature?”
Her and Max dissolved into giggles at the (un?)intentional pun.
I rolled my eyes. “And you make fun of me for my mom jokes.”