Page 50 of Keeping the Score

She kicks her legs and gums her ball toy.

“Hey, Tilly girl. Do you want to change, too? Let’s get you into something nicer for dinner.”

I look through the new things I bought her and pull out a little pair of knit pants and matching sweater in a greenish-blue color. There are matching socks too.

When she’s dressed, I admire her. “That color really brings out your eyes.”

She coos in agreement.

“Okay. Andi should be here soon. Let’s go.”

15

ANDI

I spend about fifteen minutes debating with myself whether to bring a bottle of wine to Ford’s place. It’s just dinner. We don’t need wine. But wine is nice and it’s always good to bring something when you’re a guest. But I’m not really a “guest” since I almost feel like I live at his place these days. In the end, I grab a bottle of merlot and carry it with me down the hall.

All because of that moment earlier where he joked about having makeup sex. And because I actually have been thinking about sex with Ford, I didn’t take it as a joke like I usually do. And he knew that. And it got really hot in my condo.

I spent even longer debating what to wear, and much of the debate was similar. It doesn’t matter what I look like for Ford; he’s seen me at my worst now. It’s not like this is a date. But my need to look my best wins out, although I’m wearing jeans and a fitted black turtleneck sweater, nothing fancy. My hair is done in loose waves, and I did put on makeup—eyeshadow and mascara, and a shiny pale pink lip gloss.

I pause outside his door.Be cool, be cool.

I knock and walk in, as I’ve been doing lately. “Hi!”

Oops. He’s asleep on the couch. I cover my mouth.

Tilly is with him, on her back on his chest, tucked into his arm. She’s asleep, too. Both of their faces are so beautiful, relaxed in sleep, Tilly’s little mouth soft, her cheeks round, Ford’s carved and darkened with stubble.

Sweet Jesus. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a snug white T-shirt that hugs his biceps and chest. The shirt has risen up to reveal a strip of bare skin. This is both the sexiest and most endearing thing I’ve ever seen.

I stand and look at them for probably too long, until Tilly moves, lifting her little arms above her head in a stretch, scrunching up her face. When she lets out a squawk, Ford’s eyes open. Blinking, he focuses on me. “Oh. Hey. What time is it?”

Pretending I just arrived, I saunter closer. “Just after six.”

“Oh, man. Sorry. We fell asleep.”

“I see that.”

Tilly’s squirming and he sits up and holds her. “See, was that so bad?” He looks back at me. “She didn’t want to sleep. I should change her diaper. And change my clothes.”

Tilly looks at me, kicks her legs and holds out her arms to me.

My heart.“Hello, baby girl.” I reach out and take her from Ford, and give her a kiss on her cheek. “Did you miss me? It’s been hours!”

“Sooo long,” Ford says with gentle sarcasm as he stands.

“You go change. I’ll change little miss’s diaper.”

“Thanks.”

We meet up back in the kitchen. Ford has changed into a pair of dark jeans and a navy, orange, and sky-blue polo-style shirt. Despite the unusual shirt, I feel that punch of attraction that keeps happening.

I set the bottle of wine I brought on his kitchen island. “I brought this. But we don’t have to drink it. Or we can. Or you can keep it for some other time.”Babble away, Andi. So not cool.

“I have some, too, but we can open this.” He checks out the bottle. “Oh hey, don’t even need a corkscrew.” While he opens the wine and pours two glasses, he says, “Dinner’s mostly ready. I just have to cook the pasta and put it all together.”

“Were you helping your dad make dinner?” I ask Tilly. “No? You wouldn’t go to sleep? How can that be? Let’s go have a chat.” I take her and my wine over to the living room and set her in her bouncy thing, then sit in front of her. “You changed your clothes. Look at this pretty sweater. Tell me what you did this afternoon.”

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