Page 48 of Defensive Indifference

Koa brushes tears from my face, tames the wild strands of my hair that have escaped my ponytail, and takes a deep breath. “Then let’s change the plan. You, me, and Dustin take a walk down River Street together, watch the sunset, and we see how this thing might work for all of us. What do you think?”

His thumb brushes over my cheek again, and I find my head nodding without thought. I know he wants time alone with me, he’s made that clear enough, but once again he is sacrificing his wants for my need. I need time with my son. There’s so little of it as there is, and I’ve already made the colossal mistake of wasting some of it on a horribly failed date.

“Good, let’s get this catastrophe cleaned up, we’ll go home and get cleaned up, then meet back here at, say, eight?”

I nod again.

“Great, now, do you have a fairy godmother who might come and help us clean?”

“Nope, just Annie and me these days.” I hop from the counter, ready to get it done so Dustin and I can enjoy an evening together with a man who, despite our original meet disaster, has found himself digging a little space in my heart. I have a feeling it’s only going to grow larger no matter what my mind has to say about it.

“I was afraid of that.” With a chuckle, he gets back to cleaning up the mess we made while I dive back into the dishes. Dustin and Annie chat out front, their conversation mostly indecipherable until I hear Dustin tell Annie his plan is working out.

Annie seems to know what the plan is and asks him to clarify what he’s done. Dustin tells her he talked to Koa about me and told him that I smile more than I ever have when I’m around him. My cheeks heat. Do I smile more around Koa?

“I want Mom to marry him, and I’m going to keep getting them to spend time together. I think it’ll work,” Dustin says.

“I can explain,” Koa says, popping up beside me. “I was going to tell you about him coming to me, but the party happened and—”

“It’s okay, really.” My cheeks burn. Gracious, how they burn knowing my son had a full conversation with this man about marrying me. Whatever the details, I’m embarrassed as I can be.

“You’re sure?” He winces as if he’s prepared to get hit with wet dishes.

I nod.

“You’re not going to throw things at me because your son spilled the beans on you having the hots for me?”

My mouth falls open. “I never said that!”

“I don’t know,” he taunts. “He seems pretty sure you have feelings for me. I’m just saying, if there’s anything you need to tell me, now is—”

“Koa Keaton, get back to cleaning!” I swat him with the wet rag and try not to die from embarrassment as he laughs his way all the way back to his task. If nothing else, this experiment will prove how easily thrown off I am by a very rich man with a ridiculously high confidence level.

Dinner with an exhausted child ended when said child promptly fell asleep while waiting for the food to arrive. Rather than try to force Dusting to sit up and eat, Koa suggested we get the food to go and take him home, which the waiter was more than happy to accommodate. Once he brought our food, we woke Dustin and got him outside before he whined about being too tired to walk.

Which brings me to this moment, the one where I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I am in too deep to back out now.

“If he’s too heavy, we can sit for a bit.” I carry the bag with our takeout while Koa carries Dustin, totally spent, head resting on Koa’s shoulder, snoring.

“Nah, he’s fine. Let’s get him home. I shouldn’t have encouraged you to bring him out this late after such a big day.” Koa pats Dustin’s back and carries on like a champ.

He’s good on the pivot. He can handle the quick changes in planning when a child is involved, even if it ruins his plan for the night. What’s better? He does it without complaint. Koa’s night hasn’t been ruined by a tired, whining eight-year-old. If anything, it’s proven he’s more laid-back than I initially would have thought. After all, I suppose anyone could be off their manners game when everything has been taken from you and your family name is blasted across the news as if your life is fair game for assessment by millions of people who don’t even know you.

By the time Koa struggles to get Dustin in the back seat of his car, buckled up, and comfortable, the sun is setting over the Savannah River. I’ve never seen it before, but I have a feeling it’s downright spectacular. Dustin seems fine, so before Koa puts his car in drive, I grab his hand.

“Wait, let’s watch the sunset first.”

He glances toward the river, then back to Dustin. “Are you sure? I’d understand if you want to get him in bed.”

“He’s fine. I promise. Watch the sunset with me.”

Koa’s gaze meets mine. An understanding of a different sort passes between us, but he doesn’t break the silence with unnecessary words. We’re here right now, testing the waters, but only time will truly tell if we’re both up for this monumental task.

I settle into the passenger seat and watch the sky explode in a fire of oranges, pinks, purples, and yellows. Koa laces his fingers between mine and turns his attention to God’s daytime finale. Cloud pillows drift in all the right places, soft and lazy, as the riverboats dock along River Street. The sweet scent of pralines and the soft hum of distant music lulls me into a comfortable state I haven’t experienced in so long, I’m not sure how to process it.

Eventually, the yellow and orange and pink fade to all purple just before blending into a brilliant navy that deepens by the minute. Darkness falls over Savannah, and the stars peek out to begin God’s evening show. It’s all so glorious in its complexity, even as it stares down at us, reminding us of how simple our minds are. How much we need Him every day, for everything.

How much of this life is outside of our control.