Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“Sure. Want me to take the stroller?” She sets Max in it just as I ask the question.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll use it.”
She slips on the hoodie and makes sure he’s settled before pushing off. Looking back, she says, “I’ll see you in a little while.”
I don’t know what happens. Nothing makes sense to me. I’m running off instinct instead of logic. I go to her, caressing the side of her neck as she looks into my eyes. We share a silent exchange that tells me she’s as lost in the circumstance as I am.
But we have each other, and that elicits a smile made just for me. I kiss her, savoring the gentle pressure, and let her go. “See you later.”
Despite the way we appear to the outside world, we’re not a family in the traditional sense. I’m his dad, but what am I to her? The father of her child. A coworker? A one-night stand that turned into two?
What is she to me? Is she my endgame? Emptiness washes through me as I watch them walk away. Do I want her to be? I find myself standing there and staring down the hall where they’ve long disappeared. Judging by how I feel without her, she just might be.
Exhaling, I turn and leave the hospital.
It’s a short walk to the other end of the block to find the coffee shop, but that’s not what draws me in. It’s the toy store beside it. A bell rings above my head when I enter. The colorful wonderland of toys has bookcases packed beyond their brims and overflowing shelves of odds and ends. Even the floor has toys all over, kids giggling as they run the short aisles at the back as their parents chase them.
“Welcome.” The girl’s smile is wider than the Grand Canyon, her blue hair and purple dress with green tights fit in with the vibrant environment. She hands me a lollipop and asks, “How can we spark your imagination?”
I hold the lollipop over my shoulder. “Just saw the store and came in.”
“Fantastic! Let’s get you some toys. What do you like to play with?”
The words alone send my mind to the gutter and have me wondering if Liv has any toys she’d like to play with . . . in front of me, of course. Wrong type of toy store. Focus, Westcott. “Um, I don’t know?”
“Are you buying for yourself or someone special in your life?”
The obvious answer is Max, but Liv is more than his mother. The lights of who she’s becoming to me already shine brighter. “I have two people who are special to me.”
“I love that. If you share a little about each of them, I can steer you in the right direction.”
Looking around, I go with Max. “I have a son. He’s fourteen months old.”
“That’s sweet. Do you have a photo?”
A photo. The only one I have is of Liv holding Max in the bathroom. Since she’s only in her bra, it’s best if I don’t share that one publicly. Failure hits fast. “I don’t.”
“That’s okay. What does he like to play with?”
“Um.” I scan the aisle nearby and exhale, feeling like an embarrassment of a father. “I just found out.”
Her eyes widen, but she keeps on smiling. Should I have confessed that secret? Probably not, but I don’t want to live in lies. She says, “That’s some pretty awesome news.”
“It is.” My ego doesn’t feel so wounded, so I ask, “I like cars. Do kids his age like cars?”
“Kids his age love cars.” Without an ounce of judgment, she turns on her white Doc Martens and says, “Follow me.” She leads me down an aisle and then cuts over to another. “This whole section is age-appropriate toys. Have a look around and let me know if I can help you with that other someone special.”
“Thanks.”
I bend to look at the wooden ones, but they’re not that interesting. I mean, if I’m getting a car, it should be something real I can share with him. Max had a whole bucket of them, so I should contribute to the collection.
A car catches my eye. The miniature Aston Martin is bigger than his other cars but small enough for him to hold in his hands. Safe for a kid who puts everything in his mouth. I get one in blue and another in silver that matches mine.
I stand back up and cruise a few aisles, thinking about Liv and what she might like. Or maybe I’m way off track, and she’d prefer flowers?
Unlike the salesgirl who fits in with her surroundings, I have no sense of my place in Liv’s life.
She likes salad, sexy-as-fuck shoes, and apparently, Sons of Anarchy is a secret she’s been keeping, but otherwise, I have no clue what she likes. I scratch the back of my neck and study the store. Standing in front of the stuffed animals, I think about her apartment. It’s clean and neutral. Like, there’s not a lot of clutter. None at all, actually.