I shake my head, processing Ethan’s story. Liam’s story. “How did he deal with it, losing his mother and then making such a dramatic change?”
“He was devastated. He cried himself to sleep almost every night, understandably. And I didn’t know how the hell to help him deal with so many losses—his mother, and his home . . . his whole life.”
The tightness in his voice gives me a window into how frustrated and helpless Liam must have felt. He doesn’t linger there though. “Fortunately, I’m close with my mum and dad, so Mum came East and spent some time with us. Her sister, my Aunt Jane, lives in New York too. They all helped me figure it out, and I found a great child psychologist who helped Ethan process his grief.”
Liam flashes a quick, relieved grin. “I’m lucky—he came through the other side and is remarkably well-adjusted. We get on great, and we’re thick as thieves now. But it makes me wonder all the time how life would have been with him at two, three, four . . .” He drifts off, turning wistful, maybe a bit sad, even, longing for the time missed. The years they didn’t have together.
“You would have loved each other back then like you do now,” I say, not sure if that will make him feel better or miss the time even more. “But I don't think your connection is weakened by not having those years. You were there when it mattered.”
He shoots me a soft smile. “I’d like to think so. But I’ll never know.” He sighs, as though recalibrating, before moving on. “In any case, here we are now. It’s the strangest thing—three and a half years ago, I didn’t know he existed, but now he’s my whole world in one pint-size person,” he says, wrapping up the story with a happy ending, full of awe and joy.
“Sounds like parenthood to me,” I say with a smile.
He deals me one in return. “Yeah, I suppose it is. I don’t have as much experience as you, but I’m learning.”
“From what I’ve seen, you’re doing a great job,” I say. “I’m glad Ethan’s mom was able to find you, and that you could give him the family that he needed.”
“Me too. It changed everything. And at first it was such a shock I didn’t know if I could handle it. But now I can’t imagine life without him.”
“Kids have a way of doing that, don’t they?”
“That they do,” he says as he surveys the café teeming with shopped-out young families with babies and toddlers and tykes. “That they definitely do.”
“And now, is it still you and him against the world?”
“I suppose it is, but I hope not forever,” he says, taking another bite of his sandwich, looking a little lost in thought.
Those are words that make me think too. Not forever.
Do they mean what they seem?
That even though he’s definitely single, he might not be for long.
“So, you’re looking to settle down?”
He offers me a sheepish smile. “Yes. I’ve dated, had my fun, and it doesn’t really appeal to me anymore. I’m almost forty, and at this point, yeah, I’d like to find someone to settle down with. Be a family. Have what my parents have. It was lovely to grow up with both my parents, see them support each other, love each other. Even through my dark, rebellious days as a teen, I knew I had them. I’d like Ethan to have that same security.”
I gulp at his directness, but mostly from the rarity of a man coming right out and saying he wants something that many men won’t admit to wanting.
“You want more kids, then?” My throat is unexpectedly dry.
His shrug says he wouldn’t mind more munchkins at all. His gaze travels around the café as if he’s saying, Yes, let’s order the mac and cheese feast like that table over there, or Check out those parents slicing up lingonberry pancakes for their kiddos.
He returns his eyes to me, startlingly vulnerable when he admits, “If it happened, I wouldn’t object. I’d like more. I like kids.” He takes a beat, then, in the most earnest tone I’ve ever heard, says, “And I’d like to be there every day for my kid.”
My heart bangs loudly in my chest and, at the same time, tries to flee to a corner to hide. The sentiment is wildly endearing. It would have hooked me like a trout if I were single in my twenties.
My God, if I’d met him then and he’d said those things—I’d have flung myself at him and begged him to take me to bed and MAKE BABIES WITH ME RIGHT THAT INSTANT.
Heck, I’d have grabbed him and tugged him into the chair fort to procreate.
But with a teen who’s entering her sophomore year of high school, with a business I’m finally getting off the ground, with a life I’m finally living on my own terms—one that took more than a decade to realize—I don’t want to start over.
