“We should ask the lawyer about it,” I said. “Maybe he has a key he forgot to give us.”
“Maybe,” Michael shrugged. “But I think I know why this key doesn’t fit in.”
“Why?”
“It’s too door key.” He grinned at me, waiting for me to get it.
“Oh my God, you are the absolute worst.”
“You love dad jokes.”
“I do,” I admitted. I loved his dad jokes, at least. It took a willingness to be vulnerable to tell a truly horrible joke, and I liked that Michael was willing to reveal that part of himself to me. It made me feel closer to him.
We went together into the house, and I took my things upstairs to shower. The newly finished floors gleamed beneath my feet, and the creaking I’d grown used to in the short time I’d been in the house had lessened, since the crew had shored up boards that were loose or damaged. The house was beginning to feel less neglected and spooky, and a little more like a place where I could imagine families once having lived.
21
Dorky
Michael
I shouldn’t have felt so happy about being back at the house, about seeing Addie again. But in the few days since we’d been away, I found that I missed her, that the few days we’d spent together working side by side had been the closest thing I’d ever had to the kind of home life I’d always wanted. A man and a woman with similar goals, working together. I knew it was a stretch to put us into that little stereotype I had in my head, but I couldn’t really shake the feeling of semi-domestic bliss that I’d had while we’d been together in the house.
It didn’t hurt that my lawyer had assured me Shelly had no chance at winning a bid for sole custody. I’d spoken to him about my fears and been honest about the situation at the house, and he’d told me that while it would be best if Addie and I maintained separate bedrooms—at least while Daniel was around, there was no real cause for concern.
So I’d felt like there were a lot of reasons to celebrate as I had come back up the hill to Maple Lane tonight. And when Addie had appeared as I’d come up the garden path, I’d felt a little surge of excitement bubble within me. It might not have been real, and maybe it wasn’t right. But it felt good.
In the kitchen, I opened the bottle of pinot noir I’d brought, and put together the bulgogi. I set the table with two settings, and brought the old sterling candle holders in from the dining room, where they’d been perched on the mantle over the fireplace. I even managed to find two candles in a kitchen drawer, but then thought better of it. I heard Addison on the stairs as I rushed to take the candles away. I didn’t want to make her think I was expecting anything. This wasn’t a date.
I picked up the heavy silver bases and turned to carry them back into the dining room, just as Addie appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Mr. Tucker, in the kitchen, with the candlestick!” She said triumphantly.
“Very funny.”
“Those are pretty. Were they the ones in the dining room?”
I nodded and turned back around, placing them on the table again.
“Good idea,” she said, and when I turned to look at her again, her smile banished all the nervous worry I’d been feeling. I’d forgotten how things were with us. Easy. Comfortable. Natural.
She smelled like soap, and her hair hung in loose waves around her face, still damp. She wore a soft-looking pumpkin colored sweater and faded jeans, and she had socks on her feet. I wanted to pick her up and snuggle her. I wanted to do much, much more than that.
“You ready to eat?” I asked her.
“If we are going to eat whatever it is I smell, then absolutely yes.”
I poured two glasses of wine and handed her one as she came to sit at the table. I took one myself. “To the house,” I suggested, holding out my globe.
“To the house,” she said. “And to being out from under Lottie’s scrutiny.” She took a sizable swig and leaned back into the bench behind her, looking relaxed and happy.
“Was it that bad?” I asked, still standing.
“No,” she said. “Not really, but it’s just a lot of pressure, you know? To prove that I’m okay, that she did a good job raising me and she can relax now.”
I thought about that. “I guess I get it. I mean, I can’t imagine ever not worrying about Dan.”
“I guess so,” she said. “I’m not a parent. I don’t really know how that works.”
“And I don’t have adult parents still worrying over me, so I guess I don’t know the other side either,” I said. I missed my parents every day, but I’d never really thought about having them worry about me even as an adult. It would be an extra layer of stress.
I turned back to the stove and served the food on two plates.
“What in the world is this?” Addie asked, her eyes rounding. “It looks amazing.”
“It’s a spicy barbecue pork with vegetables and rice. Korean,” I added.
“And how did you learn to make this?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Just thought it sounded good when I read about it, and figured I’d try something different.” I didn’t add that this was my way of traveling since I’d never gotten a chance to actually do any real travel.
“Well it looks fantastic.”
“I’m sure you had a pretty good selection of ethnic food to choose from in New York.”
She lifted a shoulder, and nodded. “We didn’t really experiment much, though. Luke liked things a certain way. We got into habits, I guess.” She didn’t sound happy about it. I didn’t get it. If Addie was mine, I’d take her anywhere she wanted to go, eat anything she wanted to try.
We ate in silence for a minute, both of us moving slowly, savoring both the meal and the time we had.
“I know it’s not my business,” I said. “But I’m sorry about what happened with your relationship. It sounds like he took you for granted.”
She made a small noise of assent. “I should have seen it a lot earlier. I was complacent, too. Sometimes it’s easier to believe things are the way you want them than to do anything to change them and try to make them what you want.”
That made sense. And it was true in my life too, maybe.
“I’m sorry too,” she said. “About the way Shelly treats you. It’s not my business either, but I think you’re a fantastic dad.”
It was almost embarrassing how good it felt to hear someone say that. I didn’t think anyone ever had, actually. “That’s seriously my only goal.”
“To be a good dad?”
“Yeah. It’s the only thing my life is really about. The one thing I have to get right.”
“Don’t you have to get things right for yourself though, too?” She was holding the big globe of wine aloft, her head tilted to one side and those big dark eyes on my face. I felt seen in a way I hadn’t in a long time—years.
“Maybe. When I know Dan is grown. Taken care of.”
“So you are going to let your own happiness take a back seat for another, what, like fifteen years?” Her tone made it clear she didn’t agree with this plan. But of course, Addie didn’t have kids.