Page 36 of Give & Take

When Aurora’s lip starts to wobble, I pick her up, giving her a squeeze. “We’ll figure something out okay? You’re definitely going to get a great tuck-in.”

When Lana gets home and the girls get their requisite after-work TV time, I take my time putting my shoeson. Which is hard because they’re the kind of well-worn sneakers I only have to slip into.

“So,” I say. “Any plans this weekend?”

Lana’s unpacking her backpack, and she pauses to look over at me. She looks tired. Beautiful as always, but slightly weary. Her hair’s falling out of her loose bun, and her shoulders are stiff. Deanie used to make me rub her shoulders back in Vancouver, and I very much wish I could offer that to Lana without sounding weird. But I can’t, so I don’t.

Lana fiddles with the lid on her water bottle for a moment, then loads it neatly in the dishwasher. “Yes,” she says, pushing the rack back in. “I have a date, actually.”

I’m glad her back is to me as she pulls the door back up, because I’ve suddenly turned into a plank of wood. “Oh,” I say, my voice so falsely casual it’s laughable. “Right. The girls mentioned you were going out.”

She gives me a strange look, like why would I ask if I already knew. “They didn’t know about the date part,” I say, then cringe at myself. “Anyway listen, you don’t have to get a babysitter. I’m happy to look after them for you.”

Lana shakes her head. “That’s very kind of you. But you’re off the clock on the weekends.”

“It’s not a chore, Lana.” Looking after her kids doesn’t actually feel like a job at all. “I feel like I’m getting away with something because I get to have fun all day. The least I can do is help you out at night. Plus, it’s not like I live far from here.”

Lana’s lips lift just the tiniest bit before dropping again. I call that her ‘wants to smile but can’t quite crackthe façade’ smile. Or almost-smile. “Surely you must have other plans.”

“I don’t.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s so sexy I have to look away, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. Whoever this date is with, he better fucking notice all these little tells. Actually, fuck, no he better not.

I know she wants to say yes. It would be a relief to her to say yes. So I decide to remove her option to easily say no. “It’s set then,” I say, slipping into my shoes at last. “I’ll be here at what, seven?”

“Six,” she says. Before seeming to realize she’s agreed.

I give her a grin. “Six it is.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Bye girls!” I call as I reach for the door handle.

“Bye Raph!” they chorus without pulling their eyes from the TV.

“Bye Lana,” I say, giving her a wink. Just a friendly one, I swear. Sort of.

By Saturday, I’ve mostly chilled out. Enough to be in a pretty good mood as I knock on Lana’s door. I’ve restrained myself from asking for details, and so long as I don’t think too hard about it, I think I can be okay with this date thing.

There’s a thunder of footsteps, then the girls are at the door, calling my name. The last vestiges of my unease vanish as I’m greeted with hugs—well, Aurora’s, anyway.Nova gives me a return high-five and an almost-smile, which is just as good.

“Hey guys,” I say, setting Aurora down again and relaxing into the feeling of being in this specific place. Every time I come in this door, I’m filled with a kind of warm fuzziness that everything is going to be just fine. Like no matter what, this place is where I want to be.

It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker once I leave at the end of the summer.

But I shove that thought aside, instead striding in and toeing off my shoes before setting them neatly on the shoe rack next to Lana’s. I like the look of that, too. Our tiny sevens and huge thirteens next to each other. I edge the shoes a little closer, allowing myself a moment of smugness that the mystery dude she’s seeing tonight doesn’t get to have his shoes next to hers.

I realize as I finally settle in that I can smell something outrageously delicious. We didn’t talk about dinner, and I realize I should have eaten before I came over here.

“What’s in the bag?” Nova asks as Aurora pulls me into the living room.

“Fun stuff,” I tell her, handing over the bag I brought.

Inside is a ton of random items, including a box of microwave popcorn, Silly PuttyandSilly String, as well as a Jenga set the local librarian—an older woman called Bea—actually pulled over to give me as I headed home from the coffee shop last night. “Just the man I wanted to see!” she’d said. “In case you like Jenga.”

I do, in fact, like Jenga.

I laugh as the girls descend on the bag, but my laughcuts off as I glance up the stairs, to where Lana’s coming down, her head tilted as she puts on an earring.

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