“Stop it. I almost harassed you to do it.” It’s slightly more embarrassing when I say it out loud. “I wouldn’t have been doing much else at Ruth’s.” In fact, tonight was a pleasant reprieve from it all.
He hums an unconvinced sound, then glances around the living room, and the heaviness only seems to grow. I notice him take it all in, as if seeing it from an outsider’s perspective, from the toys swallowing the ground to the messy blankets I ended up covering myself with while watching TV. I feel like shaking him to figure out if I can get him out of this state.
Finally, his gaze lands on the pile of folded clothes on the coffee table, and he groans. “Please tell me you didn’t fold my laundry.”
“I didn’t fold your laundry.”
His eyes narrow. “My five-year-old suddenly learned how to?”
“You should never underestimate that kid.”
“Cassie.”
“It was on the couch. I couldn’t just leave it there!” Plus, I’ve always found folding clothes to be calming. I love the repetitivepattern, the ability for my hands to busy themselves while my mind goes elsewhere.
He lifts the child-sized tie-dye tank top from the top of the pile, then quickly glances underneath. “Christ. I can’t believe you’ve folded my boxers.”
“I work in a hospital. You have no idea the shit I see on a daily basis. Your Fruit of the Looms won’t ruffle me much.”
“They’re Calvin Kleins, thank you very much.”
“Fancy.”
He tries to crack a smile, but even that seems to take all his small change. “Really, though, I’m sorry for the mess. I hadn’t realized how bad it’d gotten.” He leans his head back, his scruff-covered jaw tightening. “I’ve been a little… overwhelmed, lately.”
“Anything going on?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and I have that same rollercoaster stomach-drop I had before, when he didn’t want me to babysit. I keep forgetting we’re not Eli-and-Cassie anymore. It’s easy to remember when I’m away, but with him right here, close enough to touch, I can almost pretend we’ve taken a shuttle back in time. Jeannine, his mom, is outside tending to her flower beds while Ronald, his dad, is cooking something on the barbecue. His siblings are wrestling somewhere upstairs for the GameCube remote, and the two of us are here, fitting together.
But it’s been a decade, and that fantasy is long gone.
“You don’t have to,” I rush to add. “I don’t want to overstep.”
“You didn’t.” He sighs, then takes another long sip. “I’ve had full custody of Zoe for a little more than a year now.”
I feel my brows start to lift and force my face to remain neutral. I’m reminded of the woman shouting outside two mornings ago, and thankfully, Eli doesn’t act like he knows I know. “And a month ago, her mother decided to come back from God knows where and ask to be let into my daughter’s life again.”
“Can she?”
“Legally? I have no idea. I’m just hoping she moves on, and we don’t need to get to that.”
So that explains the woman’s desperate shouts the other morning, if that really was Zoe’s mother.
“And if she doesn’t? Move on, I mean.”
“I don’t know.” He shakes his head as he traces lines through the condensation on his bottle. “It keeps me up at night, if I’m being honest. I’m fucking scared she’ll be allowed in Zoe’s life again.”
“Why did she leave before?” I once again feel like I’m overstepping, but he’s letting me, and I’m too nosy to let this opportunity pass.
His shoulders give a careless shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine. For leaving Zoe, at least.”
“Were you…Were you together long?”
He looks up through his lashes, and I’m not sure if it’s my hesitation at asking the question, or his realization of just who he’s talking about this with, but a thickness settles between our words.
“Liz got pregnant when we’d just started hanging out. After that, we decided to try and make it work between us, but her heart was never in it.”
But his was, I’m assuming. Eli Grant never half-assed anything. School project? He’d be on it the second he was out of class. Christmas presents? No one could find a more thoughtful, meaningful gift than him. He was probably the same when he learned he was going to be a father, looking up books on parenting. He wouldn’t have gotten into a relationship unless he was ready to give it his all.
