6. A Proper Meeting
A Proper Meeting
ELLIE
“You’re a warrior,” Kit said, sipping on an icy drink from our favorite booth at the farmer’s market, a health-juice place run by these silver-haired hippies who smelled like patchouli oil and always incorrectly guessed every customer’s star sign as they bled them dry.
Kit and I had both gotten the juice of the day after trying the sample; it was lime, carrot, and ginger, with some kind of herbs mixed in.
Her boyfriend Chip had gagged when he’d tried Kit’s, opting for an organic cola instead.
I took a sip of mine, but my straw slurped loudly on the dregs and all I got was ice water.
I was nervous. It was almost time to meet Sam, and I’d downed the whole thing like it was whiskey.
I shoved the empty container into the cupholder on my stroller. “You’re just saying that because that was the name of the drink.” It was called Vitamin Warrior.
“Okay,” Kit said, “but I mean it.”
My hands were sweaty as I squeezed the empty stroller’s handle.
To my surprise, Tommy had wanted to come along this morning, and he was holding his brother.
Usually my fifteen-year-old was a bear if he got woken up before noon on the weekend.
But he was here, rumpled and scowling, his dark blond hair sticking up at the back like it had when he was little.
I’d told Tommy a condensed version of the truth when I’d picked him up after school yesterday, and that Sam would be meeting us at the market.
Tommy hadn’t reacted, just looked out the window and then tromped up the stairs into his room as usual.
But this morning, he was here. Holding his brother, no less, over by Winona and Mitchell.
“I still can’t believe you just ran into your baby daddy like that,” Chip said, on Kit’s other side.
“Baby daddy? Seriously?” Kit said.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m not sure what else to call him, anyway.”
“He shit his pants too, right? Henry, I mean.” Chip guffawed at his own joke.
I’d never tell Kit, but her boyfriend sometimes annoyed the shit out of me. He loved her and they’d been together since college, but sometimes I wondered who she could be without him.
“Well, yes, Chip, babies shit,” I said, trying and clearly failing to not sound like a bitch. But Kit might want kids one day and I could just see how useless he’d be. Worse than having no one around, I suspected. Still, I smiled to soften my tone.
He didn’t even notice. Ugh. Kit did though, and she smiled back, her expression looking grateful I was making an effort.
“Do you think there are too many of us?” I asked Kit when Chip drifted to the rest of the group behind us, which also included Conrad and Archie. I hadn’t meant to, but I’d brought an army.
“Is Sam easily intimidated?” Kit asked.
I opened my mouth to tell her I doubted it. I remembered him on the dance floor, everyone wanting to be in his orbit.
But him somehow only having eyes for me.
Sam was enigmatic. Or at least he had been.
But before I could say anything, I snapped my mouth shut again. Because like we’d conjured him, there he was.
For a moment, I just stared. He hadn’t seen us yet.
He sat on a bench across from the fountain we’d arranged to meet at.
He was early—we weren’t supposed to meet for another fifteen minutes.
He wore a black t-shirt and jeans and the same sneakers he’d had on when I smashed into him the other day.
His elbows were resting on his knees, his head tipped down.
Even from here I could see his fingers wrapped around themselves, his knuckles white from how tight he was squeezing. He had nice hands, I thought inanely.
Sam looked up as a group of middle-aged women stopped beside him, asking him something.
He dipped his hands into his pockets as he smiled at them.
It was a polite smile, but it still sent a little arrow of adrenaline straight into my solar plexus.
It was only a hint of it, but I remembered that smile. And its effect on me.
“Oh my God, is that him?” Kit asked, following my gaze.
Sam chose that moment to look over in our direction. When he saw me, he stood up abruptly. That sent another arrow pricking the same spot as the last, upping my nerves. He lifted a hand in greeting.
I brought mine up too, feeling heat crawl over my chest and up my throat. But the women had said something he needed to respond to, and he looked at them again.
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s him.”
“Wow. That is not how I pictured him.”
I snapped my gaze to my friend. “What did you picture?”
“I don’t know. Someone less…devastating.”
My stomach twisted. “What does that mean?”
Kit squinted. “He kind of looks like a soldier in World War I. Like he just came back from the trenches. Like he’s seen things.”
I couldn’t help laughing at that. “That is so specific.” I looked at him again. She wasn’t wrong, though. His cheekbones were sharper now than they had been. His eyes slightly hollowed.
He looked back our way as the women moved on.
“Very good looking though,” she said. “But yeah, tragic.”
Objectively, I knew I should be better now that I knew he hadn’t ghosted me.
But I still felt latent anger prickling against my ribs.
Not like the other day, when I’d absolutely lost it.
It was more like once that had burned off, what remained were these flashing sparks.
And under that, something more painful. It wasn’t rational, and the anger wasn’t even directed squarely at Sam. But he was an easy target.
The women moved on. Sam started to walk toward us, and it was immediately clear he was favoring one leg as he did.
“Did he always walk like that?” Kit whispered.
I shook my head. And just like that, those last sparks burnt out, replaced with genuine concern for what had happened to him.
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to rid myself of everything swirling through my head in the fifteen seconds it was going to take him to close the distance between us.
This was just a brief meeting. A little do-over from the other day.
Then I didn’t need to see him ever again, if that’s what he wanted.
That was probably what he wanted. Men didn’t love being surprised by parenthood, in my experience.
When I opened my eyes again though, there he was, right in front of me.
“Hi, Ellie.” Sam’s voice was low. Contrite. And he didn’t smile. It felt like there was a shadow there where it used to be.
Oh God. I’d been such an asshole. “Hello, Sam.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. I think both of us were waiting for where the pendulum would land.
Finally, Kit cleared her throat.
Shit. “Um, Sam, this is my friend Kit and her boyfriend Chip.”
He shook hands with them both, offering each of them a polite smile that I was instantly and irrationally jealous of.
I looked over at the rest of my friends a few feet away, by the fountain. “That’s Winona and Mitchell, and their daughter Delilah.” Mitchell was carrying Delilah in a baby carrier, bouncing slightly. They both waved. “And I think you know Mitchell’s brother Conrad and his son Archie?”
Sam and Conrad exchanged nods. But they didn’t say anything. Nobody said anything. They were following my lead.
I angled my face toward everyone and widened my eyes.
Winona got it. She smiled. “Hey, Sam. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to see you again,” Conrad said, his stern tone indicating he was still playing big brother to me.
Archie skipped over to Sam. “Your baby’s over there!”
My cheeks heated as Archie pointed at Tommy and Henry, who’d drifted to the other side of the fountain. Henry was shrieking at a bird flittering in and out of the water.
“Arch,” Con said under his breath.
Archie looked confused, not understanding the adult awkwardness.
My heart pinched. He hadn’t done anything wrong. “No, Archie, you’re right, that’s why we’re here.”
I beckoned Tommy over, giving my son a warning look as I did. Be nice.
Tommy would ignore me if he felt like it, but he seemed to be reserving judgment for now as he came over. At Winona’s encouragement, the others shifted out of earshot, giving us space. I was grateful for that, especially if Tommy didn’t handle this well.
“Sam,” I said, “this is my son, Tommy.”
Sam stuck out his hand. “Hey, man.”
I held my breath, panicking for a moment that Tommy would ignore it. For all my complicated feelings about Sam, I wanted this to go well.
Finally, Tommy tentatively took Sam’s hand. He shook briefly. Maybe he was nervous too. But Sam seemed to have passed at the first gauntlet, because Tommy wasn’t being a dick to him, at least not yet.
I let out a breath. “And of course, this is Henry.”
Sam swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
“Do you want to hold him?” I asked.
Sam opened and closed his hands, at his side. “Is that okay?”
My heart softened, just a little, and I realized that for all my nerves, Sam must have them tenfold.
I hadn’t known what to expect. It really could have been anything—from Sam not showing up, to him throwing some kind of custody plan at me.
I’d heard horror stories of prolonged battles and wonderful stories of coparenting, and everything in between.
But I just needed to take this one day at a time.
To have faith that Sam was the person I pegged him for when I went to bed with him.
When I sent that first email to him after.
A decent, kind person who’d do the right thing.
Even if that meant staying out of our lives, which quite honestly, would be the easiest scenario.
I took Henry from Tommy, turning him around to face his father.
Sam’s eyes were wide, his face pale. “I’ve never held a baby before,” he confessed.
“It’s okay.” I adjusted my grip so I was holding Henry a little lower down his ribs, making room for Sam. “Just put your hands above mine, under his armpits.”