I laugh. “I don’t mind. If you’ve folded them I don’t think you putting them away is any weirder.”
He chuckles. “I’ll put them away next time, then. If I do it wrong you can tell me.”
I nod. “Did you have a good day?” I ask, and then moan around the bite of chicken I just put in my mouth. God, it’s delicious. He smiles and blushes.
“It was fine. I looked into the GED stuff,” he says around a mouthful of food, and I almost laugh because his cheek is so big he reminds me of a chipmunk. But it does me good to see him eating.
“Oh? And?”
“I can take courses online at my own pace, or in person, but I think I’d prefer online. Looks like it takes about three months or so, depending on what pace you go at, so I don’t think I should start any courses until the trial period is over. I don’t want to be part way through and have to quit.”
I swallow. Just thinking about him leaving makes me uneasy and honestly, depressed. “I’m perfectly happy with you being here,” I tell him rather quickly. “And I’m happy to pay for you to do something that will improve your quality of life.”
He gives me a soft smile. “You might not feel that way in a few weeks.”
“Yes I will.” I say the words without hesitation.Please don’t leave me.
“What do you want to do when you get it?” I ask. I make sure to say when and not if. He’s going to get his GED because I won’t have it any other way. The world needs what he has to offer. And he needs to know that he is capable.
He smiles again and his cheeks turn pink. He seems elated that someone asked him what he wants to do with his life, and it makes me think it was something his parents never did. Did they have any interest in their son?
“I really like kids,” he says, and I can’t hide my smile because I just know Charlie would be amazing with kids in any setting. He’s lively and vivacious, caring, thoughtful, fun, but he can be stern and take charge when he needs to, too. “I’ve thought about being a teacher, maybe for preschool kids or elementary age. Or I could be a nanny, too. That’s less schooling,” he chuckles.
“You’d be amazing at either one,” I tell him, and his eyes dance. God, this kid needs more praise, more encouragement. He deserves to believe in himself, and to know that others believe in him, too.
“How was your day?” he asks, and I realize how good it feels to have someone ask me that. It’s been a really long time. I’m so used to just coming home and eating dinner in front of the television, alone after I shower, and not talking to anyone until work the next day. Rachel asks me how work is, but that’s only once a month when we meet up for lunch.
“It was good,” I say with a smile.Coming home to you made it even better.
“Oh, and sorry about the mess in the bathroom. I didn’t really know where to put my stuff. I can keep it in my room if that’s better.”
“No,” I say, maybe a little too quickly, and his eyes widen. He gives me a grin like he knows why I told him no, and I flush. “I uh,” I clear my throat. “I mean, I don’t mind your stuff being in there. Why don’t I clean out a drawer for you and you can put everything but your toothbrush in there? I’m sure I have a bunch of stuff in there that doesn't need to be.”
“Okay.” He’s still giving me that knowing look and I turn my gaze to my meal and keep eating.
A few minutes later, when we’ve both finished our meals, our plates scraped clean, I say, “Why don’t I clean up since you did the cooking?”
“Why don’t we both do it? You worked all day, and I’m sure you are tired,” he replies. “I don’t mind.”
“Okay.” We scoot around each other just like the night before, only this time when Charlie turns music on, and I’ve placed my plate in the dishwasher, he takes my hand and I don’t hesitate. I take him in my arms and we move across the kitchen floor. At one point he steps back, still holding my hand, and twirls, his skirt billowing out around his thighs, before he comes back to me, his smile wide. I don’t know for how long we dance but I can tell he’s in his element. This is everything Charlie was meant to be—carefree and happy, and smiling that radiant smile. God, I’m addicted to him.
“Sorry, you probably want to get off your feet,” he says. And while my feet are sore, I’d dance all day with Charlie if it kept that smile on his face, even if my feet were bleeding at the end.
“I don’t mind.” I look into his eyes. “I just wish I wasn’t so terrible at it.”
“You’re not terrible. You haven’t stepped on my feet yet.” He grins at me.
“Just give it time,” I say, and he giggles.
“Okay, let’s finish so we can watch a movie.” He pecks me on the cheek a minute later before pulling out of my arms. I almost whine at the loss of his slender, warm body against mine.
We load the last of the dishes and start the dishwasher. Charlie tells me he’ll wash the pans tomorrow, and even though it’s hard to leave the mess, I relent. He needs to feel useful and I need to learn to let go. Besides, he’s had enough of people trying to control him, and giving him orders. Dirty pans never killed anyone, right?
I take my spot on the sofa and turn onFriends, and Charlie joins me, curled into my side with his fuzzy brown blanket. He seems to have gotten quite attached to said object. It’s one Rachel gifted me when we were married and I never used it much, but it seems to suit Charlie, and I’m glad it’s being enjoyed. I put my arm around him and let him rest his head against my shoulder, drinking in the scent of my shampoo on his hair and feeling it tickle my cheek and chin. It really is incredibly soft. My fingers ache to run through it, but I keep my hand on his shoulder and do my best not to bury my face in his succulent waves.
Charlie laughs at something Phoebe says on the television and it’s so genuine and unfiltered that I can’t help squeezing him to my side and pressing my lips to his hair. His laughter is like medicine to my soul. He reaches his head up and presses a kiss to my cheek, smiling at me, before resting his head back on my shoulder.
I get frustrated only five minutes later when my back and shoulder are aching because I don’t want to move, or switch positions, but I don’t think I have much choice. I slide my arm away from him and rotate my shoulder as he lifts his head. I arch my back and groan, then rub my shoulder and try to stretch a little.
