Page 11 of Courage, Dear Heart

I look down at myself. Leggings, sneakers, T-shirt. Normal clothing. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

She waves off my question. “Nothing, go on.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “When I explained Jamie was my son, he assumed I was single because Jamie’s father left us.”

Sheila tilts her head. Not unlike Daisy. “What did he say?”

That moment flashes in my mind and pokes at an old wound. I repeat what he said, word for word, surprising myself that I remember it verbatim.

Sheila’s hands go to her chest. “Aww.”

That’s not the reaction I expected. “Aww?”

“Yes, that’s kind of romantic.”

“Romantic?” I can’t believe she’s saying that.

“Yes, like in a romance book, touch her and die kind of way.” Her hands come up to appease me. “Think about it. He didn’t know what happened to CJ. He thought you were a single mother because your boyfriend left. That’s a much more likely scenario than you being a widow. Especially when you don’t look your age.”

“Ugh. I guess if you look at it like that.” Now I feel bad. I was kind of mean to him. My shoulders drop. “He was so apologetic, too. And then this morning . . .”

“What happened this morning?” Her voice is eager.

“He sent me a dozen apology cupcakes. Cupcakes that look like flowers. They were almost too pretty to eat. And delicious too.”

“He sent you cupcakes? I want cupcakes. I want someone to piss me off and apologize with cupcakes. Why is that not a thing? I’ve never heard of that. We need to make apology cupcakes a thing.” Her hands move as she speaks.

I laugh. “Beats the heck out of sending apology flowers, but then I’d be out of business.”

Jamie comes running to me and throws himself at my lap. “Hey, bud. What’s up?”

He makes the ASL sign for water.

“Thirsty?” I give him a water bottle, and he drinks half of it and runs off again.

Sheila runs a hand through her new haircut. The short and layered pixie cut makes her look like a curvier Halle Berry. “So . . . any cupcakes left?”

“Yes, we have eight left. Jamie and I had two each for breakfast.”

She nudges me. “I’m so coming over today.”

“There was a card too. Handwritten, sincere, not the sterile messages he usually sends to his dates.” Being the recipient of that kind of brush-off must suck. I was lucky that I met CJ at such a young age and never had to deal with rejection.

“What did it say?” Her interest grows.

“Oh, you must read it for yourself. I’ll show you when we go back. It was funny.”

“I like a guy with a sense of humor.”

I track Jamie as he runs past us again. “I do too.”

“Yeah”—her voice goes dreamy, and she spreads her hands apart—“I’d love to meet a guy with a sense of humor and a big, huge, enormous, massive, humongous, co?—”

I cover her mouth with my hand, laughing, and look around. “Shh, there are kids here.”

“What?” She pulls away. “I was going to say colossal heart.” Her hands make the big gesture.

I’m laughing so hard now, tears wet the corners of myeyes and I nearly fall over. When my gaze meets her face, she’s smiling at me, her eyes bright.

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