Page 114 of The Art of Being Merry
“It probably wouldn’t faze Jace. Atlas would be a harder sell. Though you heard his comments about his future brother.”
I don’t even want to think about the fact that my eight-year-old knows what a shitty father he has. I suppose it would have happened at some point, but I wish he were a little older when he figured it out. Or maybe it’s better this way. Especially with Dax in our lives. He’s also got Beckett, my dad, and other members of the Nicholas family. He’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.
“I don’t want to make him or you uncomfortable. Until we’re ready to move in together.”
I don’t take his bait, but I ask, “Hypothetically, how would that work?”
“You and me sharing a bed so that when I go to bed, you’re there, and when I wake up, you’re there.”
Shifting my position, I sit cross-legged facing him. “Where, though? Here? Your place?”
“How about somewhere that’s ours? How long is your lease?”
“One year, but I read somewhere I can probably get out of it if need be if I give some notice. The landlord talked about putting it on the market at some point. Not sure what the status is on that.”
I’m talking like I could afford to buy a house, this house especially. It’s serving the purpose for this season of life, but it’s not a forever home. It’s too small. Eventually, I want the boys to have their own rooms.
“I don’t have much, but enough for a small down payment. If we pool our resources, maybe we can make it happen.”
His words bring about a bout of nerves. Not because I don’t want to live with the man, but because it’s fast. More careless than some other decisions I’ve made in my life.
“I’m not sure I can or should rush into buying a house. Or even living with someone else. No offense to you. It’s more of a me situation. I’m just getting adjusted to life in Vermont, being on my own with the boys. I want to make sure I can stand on my feet before I leap into living with you.”
“Give me a timeline. So I can start looking for places, saving more money, preparing my parents for my departure.”
I think he’s kidding on the last one, but he’s dead serious.
“You don’t think they’re planning a party the minute you say you’re leaving?” I hold back my laughter, but he’s a tad delusional.
“They enjoy having me there.”
“Sure.”
He blinks, his lips set in a firm line. “And they trust me as a tenant, know I’ll keep the place neat and not trash it.”
“Makes sense.” I’m on the verge of a giggle fest, but I can’t let him know it. I tuck my lips into my mouth to hopefully control it.
“They’re gonna be sad to see me go. But I think it’ll go easier when I tell them I’m moving in with you and the boys. They’ll be glad there’s someone to protect you.”
That’s when I lose it. A laugh so deep and rumbly tears out of me. I cover it with my hand so as not to wake the boys.
“You’re ridiculous,” I manage through the hysterics.
“Can you prove me wrong?” he challenges with a brow quirk.
I settle myself, pondering his question. “Well, no. I suppose not.”
“I rest my case.”
The boys’ door opens, and footsteps pad out to the living room. “Wow,” Jace observes, his voice full of amazement.
“Guess it’s time to get this day started. Buckle up. It’s gonna be a long one,” I warn.
Before we can move, Jace throws open my door. “Mama. Mama. Santa came.” His eyes are huge as he looks between Dax and me. I suck in a breath, waiting for the comments, the questions, the upsetto come. But when nothing does, I let it go. “Dax, you’re here early for breakfast.”
I forget he’s innocent. Less is more. If we make it a big deal, he’ll think it’s a big deal. If we play it nonchalantly, he’ll be more inclined to go with the flow.
“Yeah. I was too excited to sleep. Hope that’s okay.”
