I give him a smile and he returns the sentiment. This is nice. I like this. And I sincerely hope whoever hurt him died a particularly slow and painful death.
The moon is bright enough to light our walk home. Sophie wanders on ahead while Dean walks beside me. Things don’t feel all that different between us on the surface. Seems like he’s letting me set the pace out in public. We usually hang out together at these things anyway. No need for me to cling to the man or anything. Though some handholding now and then might be nice. Maybe.
“You two are being weird,” says Sophie. Like it’s nothing personal, she’s just making conversation.
Dean pauses. “In what way?”
“All of the smiling at each other. It’s so weird.”
“Were we doing that?” I ask. “I didn’t notice.”
“Hazel noticed,” says Sophie.
Dean winces. “Yeah?”
“You were doing it at breakfast, too,” she says. “Smiling at each other.”
“Is that strange?” he asks. “Us smiling?”
Sophie makes a humming noise. “Not Astrid so much.”
I nod. “She has a point. Your natural resting face does tend to be a frown.”
“I don’t have a resting frown face,” he says, frowning. “That’s not a thing. You just made that up.”
“You’re doing it right now.” I point to his face and he snaps sharp teeth at my fingers, making me laugh. “It’s right there.”
“Oh my God,” moans Sophie. The child is so dismayed by our behavior. “You’re doing it again. You two are being so weird. Is it always going to be like this now?”
Dean stops fooling around and stands tall. “I’m sorry, Soph. Let’s talk about this seriously for a minute. You know you can always ask us anything. We know things changing can be upsetting or confusing at times.”
The child wrinkles her nose at him but says nothing.
“I also know you saw me coming out of Astrid’s room this morning. And I will be sleeping in there with her from now on, okay?”
“Gross, Dean! I know how babies are made and where they come from! You don’t need to tell me!” Such an immense expression of horror and disdain on her sweet little face. She turns and bolts for the house, leaving us in her dust. Where, according to her, we no doubt belong.
“I thought that actually went quite well,” I say.
He grunts.
“You were very brave.”
“Thanks.” He takes a deep breath. “Fuck me. Parenthood.”
I laugh quietly.
“So, we’re gross apparently.”
“This is awkward,” I answer. “I think she only meant you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.Just between you and me, I am not actually sure how babies are made,” he says. “Don’t suppose you could give me a tutorial or something? I find hands-on teaching works best for me.”
“No can do. I am helping with the watch for a couple of hours. And you need to get in there and make sure she remembers to brush her teeth before bed.”
