Page 23 of Kit
By Tuesday morning I was ready for Kit. I had texted him my address and told him to show up by noon and I’d have lunch ready for us.
Right at twelve, the doorbell rang.
Kit had a backpack and a computer bag with him. He held the teddy bear I’d seen him with the first night he sat on Santa’s lap. He had on the boy clothes I’d grown to love, plus a parka and scarf. Cold wind blew his hair his eyes.
“Kit, come in.”
“I’m so glad you invited me.”
“I’m thrilled you accepted.”
He stepped in, immediately complimenting everything he saw.
“Ohhh, your house is big and so pretty.” He set down his stuff but kept the teddy in his arms. “I live in a condo. It’s nice, but not like this.”
“Consider this your home for the rest of winter vacation.”
“If, that is, you don’t kick me out for being naughty.” He clenched his teeth against a forced smile, showing teeth.
I raised my eyebrow. “I can’t imagine that would be my choice of discipline.”
I’d thought this through all the way. Playing and replaying how he felt in my lap and when we’d hugged. All my responses to him, both emotionally and physically, convinced me we were right for each other. He’d fitted into my arms perfectly. I wanted more and he did, too.
I led him to my dining room table next to the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked a valley and distant snowcapped peaks.
“Look!” He pointed just like a little would. “Snow on the mountains.”
“I paid extra for the view.”
“I love it. I hope it snows here before Christmas.”
“It’s certainly cold enough.”
He rubbed his hands together. “I love snow. Would you build a snowman with me?”
“I’d love to.”
I watched as he slowly reverted to his little self. His chin lowered and the muscles of his face got fuller as he pursed his lips in a sort of pout. He pushed his bangs away with the back of his hand, then bounced up on the balls of his feet when he looked at the setup on the dining room table.
“Pizza!” he squealed.
“And wings and a crisp green salad.”
“Ugh.” He shook his head. “No salad.”
“It has vitamins good for growing boys.”
“Hmph. My favorite vitamin is pizza.”
I laughed. “Let’s eat.”
We sat down and helped ourselves to everything. I served Kit a helping of salad even though he wrinkled his nose.
It was as if we’d been together for weeks or longer, not the few times we’d seen each other. Everything was natural with Kit. How was he still single?
I learned a few things during our meal. Kit picked off every olive from his pizza slices. He wanted milk instead of water or soda. It seemed he liked ranch dressing more than the chicken with the amount he slathered on it.
I noted everything he did, eager to learn more about this sweet boy.
