Page 70 of When the Night is Over

“I know, I should have…”

I cover my mouth to stifle the nervous cry-laugh that’s rising up. “It seems neither one of us can form a coherent sentence.” I wave him in with one hand. “Come in.”

He takes a few steps inside and looks around before he turns back to me. “So, I went to see you in Ann Arbor yesterday.”

“I left last week right after classes ended.”

“You go to Michigan?”

“I do. And you’re in law school now? Still at Northwestern?” He smiles at me and nods. Damn, his eyes are gentle, familiar. “So you finished your undergrad early, stuck to your plan…”

“Yeah, I took classes during the summer and every winter break. Kind of a lunatic move thinking back on it now. Pretty sure I was the only one-L who didn’t think the workload was that heavy this year.” He spells it out when he sees that he’s lost me. “One-L, that’s what they call first year law students.”

“Oh, makes sense.”

The air is heavy, choking my words and rendering me so self-conscious that I can’t even walk in a natural way. And it’s crazy making small talk like this when there is so much between us.

Simon’s gaze follows mine when instinct draws my eyes towards the stairs. I wonder when the elephant in the room is going to stampede his way into this awkward conversation. I’d wager we have no more than ten minutes before he’s up from his nap, fifteen if I’m lucky. Better to just bite the bullet.

“So, you got the letter.”

He jams his hands in his pocket, shifts his weight on his feet. “Actually no, I didn’t. I, um, came across an envelope with your return address. So I went there yesterday. Met your neighbor?”

“Arlene Gold?” My heart is beating double-time imagining what she said to Simon. “What exactly did she say?”

He cocks his head to the side, eyes playful. “Something about Lawrence busting my helmet if I wasn’t nice to you?”

“Sounds like her.” What is this? He’s not mad or demanding answers. I’m so confused. “Uh, wait. What did you mean when you said you saw an envelope? Why didn’t you get the letter?”

He shakes his head once. “Can that be a story for another day, Charlotte?” He swallows like he’s shoring himself up. “Point is, I don’t know what you said in that letter, but I did see Ethan’s picture.”

I take a seat on the couch, mind racing, breaths shallow. “I wish I made a copy of that letter. I spelled everything out, explained it all. Now you’re here and I feel tongue-tied.”

He sits down next to me but leaves a few feet of space. “Just start at the beginning.”

I can feel my heart rate picking up. I thought I was so ready to do this. “I can’t,” I say on a gasp as the first tears start to fall.

He reaches over and takes my hand, rubs his thumb over the top of mine. “Yeah, you can, Charlotte…You kind of have to.”

When I look over, I see he’s facing forward and his free hand is wiping at his eyes. Yes, I do owe him this. My voice shakes when I start in. “Ethan was born on April tenth.” I look away when I add, “He just had his third birthday.”

He attempts a smile but it’s heavy with emotion. “Did he have a party?”

“Well yes, and it was a-rockin’, if you consider cake with me, Mrs. Gold and Lawrence a party.”

“Anything with Mrs. Gold in attendance would be…interesting at least.”

“I know she comes off a little kooky, but Arlene is great. Super smart too...She’s a retired physics professor. She babysits for Ethan while I’m in class. She’s been a great help since Janelle…”

“Janelle is your aunt. And she passed away this past winter.” He answers my unspoken question. “Found some info online. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. It’s been really hard. I mean, Janelle swooped in back then and pretty much saved me.”

He squeezes my hand. “I feel lost, Charlotte. There’s so much I don’t know.”

“Mommy.” Ethan’s voice is loud and clear, stretching the word mommy out in a playful way. “Mommy, I awake,” he says a moment later and then adds, “Mommy, get my Moe!”

Simon’s eyes light up at the sound of Ethan’s voice. He wipes his palms on his jeans, looking both excited and fearful. “Is that how he wakes up?”

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