Blind Kiss(73)

LANCE CAME BACK to the house to pack a few things. I told him he could sleep in the room with me, but he was a gentleman through and through; he crashed on the couch. After Milo fell asleep, I started going through old photos, wondering what I could’ve done differently. Instead, I ended up lingering over my old black-and-white dancing photos, which made me both hopeful and sad at the same time. What might have been? I thought.

What could still be?





34. One month Ago


PENNY

An entire month went by but I still hadn’t told anyone about my divorce—including Gavin. Up until that point, he had been distant. He said he needed to talk, but he avoided making a plan with me. Once Lance moved out and served me with papers, I knew I couldn’t put off telling him.

I carried the papers around in a manila envelope for days. All I had to do was sign and it would be over, but something was preventing me from doing it. As I sat in my car in the parking lot at Milo’s soccer practice one day, I finally decided to tell Gavin.


Me: Can you talk?


Gavin: What’s up?


Me: Can you talk, not text?


Gavin: I’m in the middle of something right now. You okay? Lance being cool?


Me: Yes, I’m fine. Lance is being cool. I just need to talk. I thought you did, too?


Gavin: I do, I do. I’ll be in Fort Collins in a month. I’m having some work done on my dad’s house next month before the renters move in. We’ll get lunch, okay?

I wasn’t going to tell him via text. Gavin was probably busy with the garage and Briel. Still, it was unusual for him to be that distant.

Later that night, he called my house phone. “Hey, P, can I talk to Milo?”

“Um, okay.”

When Milo opened his bedroom door, I handed him the phone and whispered, “Don’t tell Gavin about your dad and me, okay? I need to tell him in person.”

He nodded.

Twenty minutes later, Milo was in the kitchen, getting water. “That was it?” I asked. “He didn’t ask to talk to me?”

“Nope,” he said, taking a gulp of water.

“What did he want?”

“He was just checking up on me, seeing how things were going with school and soccer. He apologized for missing my first few games and said he’d be out here in a month. He hoped to spend a few days with us, maybe catch one of my games and take me out for a bite.”

“How nice of him,” I said sarcastically, annoyed he was avoiding me.

Milo shrugged and then turned to leave the kitchen.

“Wait,” I said. “Can I have a hug good night?”

“Oh yeah, sorry, Mom.”

He came over and gave me a quick hug. “I love you, Milo. Sleep tight.”

“Thanks. Love you, too.”

Over the next few weeks, I focused on being alone. I hadn’t signed the papers yet, and I was still carrying them around with me everywhere. Lance’s lawyer called and asked why I hadn’t signed them yet. I told him I would very soon.

Lance took Milo for a weekend and when Milo returned Sunday night, he seemed happier.

“What’d you and your dad do?”

“We went camping, roasted marshmallows, the whole bit.”

“Just the two of you?” I asked.

My brilliant son knew I was onto something. “He doesn’t have a girlfriend, Mom. But even if he did—”

“If he did, it would be a little too soon.”

“Well, I guess. But you’re always with Gavin.”

“No, I’m not. This is practically the longest I’ve gone without seeing Gavin, and I’ve barely spoken to him. Plus, Gavin is just a friend. He’s your godfather. He’s family. And anyway, you’ve had deeper conversations with him lately than I have.”

He looked at me sympathetically. “Okay, I’m sorry. Why don’t you come and volunteer at the school? You can hang out with Crystal; she’s there a lot and you two haven’t really hung out lately.”

“She lives across the street. We have plenty of opportunities. Don’t worry about me, Milo.”

“You seem lonely, Mom.”

“It’s okay to be lonely sometimes.” It was hard for me to be alone, but I wanted Milo to be more independent than me. To understand there would be seasons in his life when he wouldn’t be the center of attention, when he might be alone at night with no one to call but his mom or dad, or maybe not even us. It was something I grappled with from time to time, but in the past, I’d always had Gavin. Now I wasn’t so sure.


THE NEXT NIGHT, I took Milo to dinner with my mom and Kiki at The Kitchen, one of my favorite restaurants in Fort Collins. My mother had never been there before. She immediately picked up the menu and began huffing and puffing about the prices.

“Twenty-six dollars for chicken? I can buy five whole chickens for that money.”

She’d become very frugal since my father’s passing. I wanted to remind her that she used to spend forty dollars to have Kiki spray-tanned before pageants. Instead, I blurted out, “Lance and I are getting divorced.”

My mother gasped.

“Mom, it’s okay.”

I looked at Kiki, who was grinning, but quickly stopped.

“Are you happy about this, Aunt Keeks?” Milo said.