“Not yet.”
Okay, that’s not the full truth. Ididsay yes—over and over and over again—but somehow, it doesn’t feel kid-appropriate to mention that.
Besides, there’s only one “yes” that matters.
My son’s.
Eli’s brow knits. “Why not?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a big decision. And not just for me.” I ruffle his hair, wondering how in the world did I get so lucky. To have a kid like Eli. He’s everything bright and kind in the world, and he shows me that every day. “So, if you don’t want me to do it…”
“Will we go live with him?”
“Yes. At some point. But we don’t have to rush it—not until you’re ready.”
He gives a thoughtful little nod. “I think he’s got a bigger house than us.”
“I think so, too.”
“I’m okay with a bigger house.”
“But are you okay with Yulian being there?” I search his eyes, making sure he understands what he’s saying. WhatI’msaying. “Every day? Having breakfast with us, dinner with us, driving you to school? Coming with us to the park on weekends or needing us to be there for his work events?”
“Work events?”
“It’s like picture day, but much more boring.”
He purses his lips. “Can I skip picture day?”
“You can skip whatever you want, buddy. That’s why we’re talking right now.” My heart clenches as I prepare to say what comes next. “And if you want to skip all of it… if you want things to stay as they are?—”
“Do you love him?”
It’s not the answer I was expecting. “I…”
“It’s a simple question, Mommy. Yes or no.”
“Hey! Watch the attitude.” But even as I say that, I can’t help laughing. And I can’t help realizing that, no matter how long or hard I think about it, there’s only ever been one answer. “Yes, munchkin. I love him.”
“That’s gross.”
“Right? So gross. Mega-ultra-yuck.”
“Yeah.” He makes a face. “But you should get married.”
“Are you sure?” I whisper. “You can say no, you know. I won’t be mad. This is your life, too.”
Eli’s gaze drops to the grass, tormenting a few stalks between his fingers. Like I do with my sleeves whenever I’m nervous. “You’re not happy, Mommy.”
“What? Of course I?—”
“No, you’re not. All you do is work and take care of me.” His little fists clench in the grass, ripping out the stalks. Suddenly, he looks close to tears. “You have to see Mr. Lee because of me and work late because of me and put up with Vanessa?—”
“Tamara.”
