Sunday's Child(13)
“Every one.” He didn’t mention he’d visited most of them multiple times across the centuries, seen them rise, fall, change names, change governments, change religions. He went for the mundane instead, something Claire’s practical thinking would accept. “It’s doable if you’re very wealthy or willing to work any odd job for the travel money.”
“I imagine you have a very interesting resume.”
Andor grinned. “An understatement, trust me.”
After dinner, he only had to help her throw away cartons and load the dishwasher instead of rescue her from certain death. Claire made coffee, and they took their cups out to the back patio. The bench set in the middle of the plain concrete pad was just big enough for two and faced out to a back yard fenced from the neighbors. Claire’s hip was warm where it pressed against Andor’s. He wished this was more than just the awkward first date, and he could stroke the length of her long thigh through her jeans.
Early November in Houston was one of the best times of the year. Cool enough to feel a snap in the air, but the mosquitoes that made a meal out of everyone during summer and early fall were gone. The dark silhouettes of two live oaks spread even darker shadows across the ground. Through the gaps between their branches, the sky glittered with a sprinkling of pale stars, occasionally obscured by scudding clouds.
Claire pointed up. “You don’t see that too often. It’s either a humid haze or light pollution that blots those out. One day I’d like to take Jake out to the George Ranch observatory. If I can coax him to look through a telescope, he can see the Milky Way.”
Andor glanced behind him at the partially open back door. “Will he be okay in there?”
She nodded. “Until last year, I couldn’t turn my back for a second, or he was into something or destroying it. Imagine the terrible twos lasting for seven years.” She snapped her fingers. “Then it stopped all of a sudden. I don’t know if an internal light bulb came on or what. I didn’t dissect it, just counted my blessings.” Her gaze followed Andor’s to the door. “He might join us in a little bit. He likes to watch his shadow move. In the summer, before the mosquitoes get too bad and the city starts to spray, we’ll come outside and he’ll follow fireflies.”
Andor could hear it in her voice, a joy tinged with melancholy, at her son’s antics. Claire chose to see the wonder in Jake’s reactions to such things as his shadow and fireflies. Her deep Sight might be gone, but Andor had been wrong. She still saw magic, just a different, very human kind of sorcery.
“Where is Jake’s father?”
For a moment, she stiffened next to him, and her face tightened. “In Germany on business I think.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. A rueful smile hovered on her mouth. “I know what you’re asking. We divorced four years ago. We were only married for five. Bad choice on both our parts. Special needs children can be tough on even the strongest marriages. Ours was already in trouble. For Lucas, I think Jake’s diagnosis felt like the key that locked him in a prison. He served me with divorce papers two months later.”
Andor scowled. Lucas sounded like an idiot. “Who’d leave a woman like you and the child you made together?”
“That’s very sweet of you.” Her eyes glittered in the moonlight.
He shrugged. “It’s true.”
She fiddled with the handle of her coffee cup. “It’s tempting to demonize him, but he isn’t a bad person, and I’m no saint. I have custody of Jake, and Lucas has visitation. He pays child support on time, every time. Not a dead-beat dad, just a distant one. I try to encourage him to spend more time with Jake, but honestly I think the autism scares him.”
Andor frowned even harder. “He does know it isn’t contagious, right?”
Claire chuckled. “He isn’t quite that dumb. He’s like a lot of people I guess. They avoid what they don’t understand. Humans are odd ducks sometimes.”
“No truer words,” Andor said. He finished his coffee and set the cup down by his feet. “Do you miss him?”
The question earned him a full laugh. “Good God, no.” She sobered a little. “That’s not true. I miss having help with Jake or someone I can share a rant with when one of us has a bad day. An evening watching a show we both like. But that’s less about the specific person and more about the perks of living with someone you love. Even when Lucas and I lived together, we rarely did the things I just mentioned.”
He had nothing to relate to those moments she listed. They appealed to him greatly, made him wonder what it would be like to live a life waking up each morning with this woman in his arms, to spend evenings like this evening with her and Jake—not as a single date with the hopes of another to follow, but the expectation that the two would be waiting there, happy to see him when he came through the door.
It was such a human thing to crave. He’d been too long among them.
Andor rose from the bench and helped a startled Claire stand. “I have to call it a night, Claire.”
Her features went blank, and her arms crossed in a protective gesture. “Was it something I said?”
It was everything she was and everything he wanted. The craving for her and the life he imagined with her left him reeling. He needed to get away, to think.
He grasped her elbows and tugged her closer to him. Her arms stayed crossed, a barrier between them. Light from the living room spilled from the open back door. He and Claire stood in the wedge of luminescence it cast across the patio.