I break off when Emmy’s head pops around the divider between my office and the kitchen. “Can I interrupt you for a second?”
Logan twists to look at her. “Of course, baby doll.”
A grin as glorious as the sunrise breaks across Emily’s face and she waggles her fingers. Logan climbs painfully out of the beanbag to follow her. Curious, I trail them out to my landing.
Emily draws Logan over to the flowers blooming along the railing. “Look, Daddy,” she whispers, pointing. “It’s a pink ladybug. I’ve never seen one before.”
Logan peers into the planter. “Look at that. It is pink. Hold your finger out, sweetie.”
Emily looks hesitant, but with Logan’s guidance, extends her hand. Her finger trembles when the insect climbs onto it. She looks up at Logan, her eyes soft and gleaming. Logan smiles at her, the first real smile I’ve seen out of him since he arrived yesterday. They gaze at each other, the rosy insect held between them until it spreads its tiny wings and flutters away. Emily giggles. Logan pulls her to him and buries her in a hug.
I back away to let them have their moment. Logan does need his friends, but he’ll always need Emily more; she gives him something none of the rest of us can give him.
I stare at my phone for what’s probably only five minutes but feels like an hour.
I have everything ready. Flowers, dairy-free chocolate, cutest stuffed honeybee hive ever made. I know what train to take to get to her house. I just need to find the courage to call her.
I pick up my phone. Put it down again.
“Fuck it,” I tell myself. “If she blocks you, she blocks you. Sac up.”
I pick up the phone. Put it down again.
Maybe I should just wait until the next playgroup. That’s a week and a half away. She might not even show up.
I pick up the phone and tap her contact before I lose my nerve again.
“Max?”
I’m so surprised she’s answered that I stammer, “B-buh-baby?”
“Hi,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Thought youz coming t’see me?”
“I am. Oh, baby, I am. I just needed to be sure you wanted me to.”
“Didn’t say no.”
“No, I know, I mean, I know you didn’t. I just had to make sure. Consent’s important, right? If I leave now, I’ll be there in under an hour. You’ll be home?”
She’s silent for a long moment, while my heart slams in my chest, my throat, my ears. Is she going to tell me not to come?
“Can I come t’yours instead?” she whispers.
“Of course. Please, baby. Come here—” I choke myself off before I say anything idiotic. More idiotic.
“Can I stay over?”
“Yes. I’ll make dinner. Or do you want to go out?”
“Like a date?”
I’ve got to stop pouncing on her like a fucking beast and date her right.
“Yes, a date. Let’s go out. Have a nice dinner. See a movie. Is there a movie you’d like to see?”
“You won’t want to see it. Pick a big movie.”
I grin into the phone. I’ll pick a movie: the new Disney movie.
