In a Book Club Far Away(42)

God, he was so… thoughtful. “Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, nah… I mean, not unless you want me to.”

“I do. Want you to.” This felt like first loves, teenage angst, and her heart thrilled at it. With Logan it had never felt that way.

Quit comparing the two.

Still, when he entered the town house, she cataloged the way he moved, lithe instead of bulky and hulking. She watched him greet Genevieve like she existed—while Logan treated Miko, until he was much older, like a plaything rather than a person. And when he plated the pastries and then promptly cleaned up after himself, it sealed the deal.

Henry was different.

They were sitting as a party of three with Genevieve at her toddler table, with a plate of pastry each in front of them, when Henry asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Regina Velcroed Genevieve’s bib. “About what?”

“Feeling helpless.”

She split the croissant on her plate, and it flaked on her fingertips. She marveled at its perfection, made better when it melted in her mouth. It allowed her a moment to wonder how much she should reveal.

Henry waited patiently. Again, unlike Logan.

“Usually, if there’s a problem, I’m fixing it. If Baby’s broken, I fix her. If someone’s hungry, I cook. If someone needs help, I… do. And right now, I feel like I’m not doing enough.”

“I bet your friends don’t feel that way.”

“Yeah, well… Sophie’s really doing the heavy lifting.”

Henry took a bite out of his croissant. “I don’t think it’s a competition.”

She shrugged. “I dunno. For a decade now, Adelaide has been closely in touch with each of us, with Sophie and me not being in touch with each other. It’s been weird, to say the least, to still have the ghost of her around.”

“What you’re doing here is equally important.” He reached the short distance across the table and touched her forearm, grounding her. His thumb feathered across her skin and drew her arm closer. “And I bet Sophie has missed you, too.”

The idea startled her. “Miss? I didn’t miss her.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “No?”

Regina opened her mouth to rebut. Because no. She hadn’t missed Sophie. She was angry, and rightly so. But she was interrupted by the sweep of Genevieve’s arm and the accidental swipe of her sippy cup onto the floor.

“Uh-oh! Sorry!” Genevieve yelped.

It broke the moment, and it was probably a good thing. This was why Regina, six years postdivorce, never did get past that first date. There was too much at stake. And it wasn’t just because she was a mom or that she was always busy or that she was living in her mother’s home.

There were too many feelings involved. She couldn’t look a man in the eyes fully. She double-checked all friendships, only letting a few in. She preferred to pass once it got serious. It had been safer that way.

Henry was at the sink before Regina recovered from her thoughts; he ran water over a sponge. “Don’t worry about the milk—I can wipe it up.”

“Oh, okay.”

He bent down and picked up the cup and assessed the floor for droplets of milk. “I bet that sippy cup claims to be spill-proof. And yet.”

She giggled at his intensity. “Are you in the market for sippy cups?”

“No, but…” He straightened, and he swooped his hair back with a hand. “Maybe one day. Carolina’s a single mom, so I’m around young kids pretty often. I love kids.”

He said it so seriously that Regina stilled.

He stood swiftly and rinsed the sponge at the sink and washed his hands. Correction, he was scrubbing them raw, as if in deep thought, suds blooming on his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it.

Regina willed the moment forward, because in between the words he spoke was a message, though she wasn’t willing to investigate it. Not yet. So she changed the subject, swiftly. She said the next thing that came to mind—something that had been simmering in her quest to feel more helpful while at Adelaide’s. “You know, Genevieve’s turning two next week. I was thinking—why not have a little celebration here at home?” Then, as the words left her mouth, the more inspired she became. “This is probably last-minute, but do you have time for a cake order for next Saturday? Nothing too elaborate.”

Startled, he said, “Yeah, sure. I can check. Our schedules are back at the bakery, but I can call you to confirm. For how many folks?”

“Um… ten? Fifteen? Or can I confirm in a couple of days?” Regina’s to-do list materialized in her head. She would need to figure out what people to invite, food to plan, and decor to buy.

“That might be something I can fit in. But listen, Regina—”

“Great! Well!” She bent down and wiped Genevieve’s face with a napkin. And because she wasn’t yet ready for whatever he wanted to discuss, added, “I think you’re done with your snack, little girl. Do you want to get ready to head to the playground?”

With the word playground, Genevieve bolted out of her seat.

“Oh, okay, well, I really should get going. You’ll call me about the cake?”

“Yes, I will.” She swept crumbs into her palm and took a breath to recover. “Thank you for coming by. It was so thoughtful.”