Thirty-One
I ’m two sips into a latte that’s about seventy percent foam and three pages into a paperback I’ve already read twice when my phone buzzes on the coffee shop table.
Wes : Where do we keep the thermometer that works?
It takes me a second.
Me : We? Bold word choice for someone who’s currently parenting solo. It’s my day off, Wesley.
Wes : You reorganized my entire kitchen. That makes this your fault.
Me : Top shelf, blue box.
Wes : Thanks.
Me: You’re welcome. Is Rosie sick? You got man-flu again?
I grin and lean back, the sun warm on my arms, and the distant hiss of the espresso machine provides a sort of meditative white noise.
Wes : We’re both fine. She just feels warm and tried to use the dog bowl as a foot spa.
Me : So… just a typical Tuesday?
Wes : It’s Saturday.
Me : Exactly. I’m glad you noticed. My day off .
Another beat. Then a picture comes through of Rosie on the floor, smiling up at the camera. Milo is wearing her bib.
Me: Well, that’s emotional blackmail. Hey, Rosie Posie.
Wes : She’s going down for a nap. We’re both tired after listening to your podcast.
I nearly snort my latte.
Me : Excuse me? You’re listening on your own now?
Wes : Lena, it’s like crack.
Me : Right? What’s the episode about? I haven’t listened this week.
Wes : Sex club. Wristbands. Mood lighting. Lots of rules. Very efficient, actually.
Me : Thinking of going?
Wes : That’s more Julian’s thing.
Me : Really?
Wes : You have no idea of him.
I laugh loud enough to get a glance from the guy at the next table. I wave an apology and sip more foam.
Me : What do the wristbands mean?
Wes : Green for yes. Yellow for maybe. Red for “don’t even look at me.”
Me : So… you’re a red?
Wes : Very funny, coming from someone who argues with gravity.
Me : You should go. It’ll give you depth.
I’m just goading him now. Getting on this man’s last nerve is my favorite hobby.
Wes: I have depth.
Me: You have depth the same way a pothole has depth. Unpredictable and potentially fatal.
A pause.
Wes : Ouch.
Me : Admit it. You miss me .
Wes : It’s suspiciously calm without you here.
Me : You mean boring?
Wes : I mean calm.
Me : One day, you’re going to realize I’m the best thing that ever happened to your household.
Wes : I already know that.
The quiet that follows is the kind that settles under my skin.
Me: Don’t say stuff like that. I’m emotionally unstable, and I just finished a latte.
Wes: Mostly foam?
I stare at the screen, then down at the cup.
Is it normal to know your nanny this well?
There was a noticeable shift after his birthday. He started asking me random things about my life in passing, but we were so caught up in the rhythm of Rosie’s world, I assumed he wasn’t paying attention. I thought he was making small talk.
I thought wrong.
Me: It was at least 70% foam, yes.
I reach into the brown paper bag beside me and pull out the candle I impulse-bought earlier just to smell it again.
Heaven.
Wes: Go enjoy the rest of your weekend. Buy more of those candles you like.
Me: Are you watching me?
Wes: You’re predictable.
Me: I prefer a creature of habit.
Wes: See you Monday, Carter.
Me: Yeah, you hope.
I smile at the screen, shove my phone into my bag, and take another deep sniff of my candle.