LISA
I opened the freezer door and pulled out the yellow box of Popsicles, rifling through the packages to find the right flavor. Lily had been home from the hospital for a few days, and I learned pretty quickly which colors she preferred. She wasn't a huge fan of the grape ones and she absolutely hated the green lime ones, but everything else she got down just fine.
My gaze landed on a Popsicle that looked like it might be red, so I pulled it out of the box and held it up to the light. Through the thin packaging, I could see a faint red tint. Hallelujah. Red was Lily's favorite.
I walked into the living room where she was curled up under a thick, fuzzy blanket on the couch, still dressed in her pajamas and her hair a little tousled. I unwrapped the Popsicle and handed it to her, making sure to place a napkin in her lap.
"Be careful that it doesn't start dripping," I said, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"I know," she said softly, nodding without taking her eyes away from the TV. She absentmindedly pulled the frozen treat toward her mouth, missing on her first try and smearing red juice on her chin.
Taking the napkin from her lap, I wiped the juice away, chuckling at how unfazed she seemed. The doctors had warned me that she would need lots of rest after the surgery, but that morning, I could tell she'd turned a corner by how entranced she was with her cartoons. Her first couple of days home, she could barely keep her eyes open long enough to pay attention to them. But now, she was hooked. I could already tell I'd have to be firm about getting her back to her normal screen-time schedule once she was fully recovered.
"I'll get you another napkin," I said, kissing the top of Lily's head before walking back into the kitchen.
Turns out, there was nothing more terrifying in the world than having to take your child to the hospital. I learned that the hard way. Even after the doctors reassured me that she'd be fine and that her surgery was totally routine and manageable, I couldn't deal with how helpless I'd felt.
Sitting in that waiting room while strangers cut open my daughter with nothing to do but sit and wait and try not to freak out? I'd thought I was a calm and rational person, but based on the chaotic feelings that churned through me during that time, I was starting to question everything I thought I knew about myself. The only thing I didn't question? The fact that Lily meant everything to me. She was my whole world, and it was my job to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. Case closed.
After grabbing a fresh napkin, I walked back into the living room and sat down next to her on the couch. I placed the napkin in her lap, smiling at the fact that her Popsicle was already halfway gone.
"Dada, can we have something other than soup for dinner tonight?" Lily asked, still staring straight ahead at the TV.
"What do you want instead?" I did a mental inventory, trying to remember what groceries we still had. I'd been doing my best to make mild and nutritious meals with what we already had on hand.
"Could we make gluten-free pizza?" She looked up at me with wide, hopeful eyes.
I smiled. Looked like someone was starting to feel better after all.
• • •
A few days later, it was clear that Lily and I needed to get out of the house. We had run out of Popsicles, and our pantry desperately needed to be restocked. And for as much as she and I loved spending time together, I could tell she was ready to look at someone else's face and listen to someone else's voice for a while. And I knew just who to call.
After a few rings, the line connected, and a voice I hadn't realized just how much I missed answered.
"Lisa, hi. How's Lily doing?"
"Hi, Jennie. She's doing a lot better. Thanks for asking." I couldn't keep myself from smiling into my cell phone. Damn, I'd missed the sound of her voice.
"Is her incision healing okay? No signs of infection? No weird side effects from the anesthesia?"
"You've been stress-googling, haven't you?"
We both laughed.
"Listen," she said, her tone turning serious, "this is the first surgery in my life in a long time, and it turns out there's a lot to worry about with these things. Hospitals are rife with infections and all sorts of other things you can catch."
I smiled. How is it that Jennie just gets better and better every time we talk?
"Well, it's very sweet of you to worry, but she's doing fine."
"Good, I'm glad to hear it. It took just about every ounce of self-control I had to keep myself from texting you every five seconds."
"You can always text me, Jennie. You know that, right?"
She paused, and I worried for a second that I'd said too much.
Whatever, it's true. Our physical arrangement might have been a casual one, but rushing to the hospital to help when my daughter had to have emergency surgery? Not exactly what you'd expect from a casual hookup.
"I know, I just—I didn't want to overstep."
"I understand," I said slowly. "But just for the record, you wouldn't have been overstepping. Not in the slightest."
A longer silence stretched between us, and I really started to worry that I'd freaked her out.
"Jennie? You still there?"
"Sorry, yes, I'm here." Her voice sounded smaller, more timid than usual. "That was just . . . sweet, Lisa."
"It's true. So, listen, I was calling to see if you wanted to join Lily and me on a short trip to the park this afternoon. We're going a little stir-crazy over here. Plus, she would love to see you." I had to lighten the mood before Jennie hung up and wrote me off as the clingy idiot who didn't know how to keep a relationship with a woman casual.
"I would love to," she replied. "When are you planning to leave?"
"How does three work for you?"
"Three sounds perfect. Meet you at your front door then."
"Looking forward to it."
After we hung up, I went to tell Lily the good news. "Guess what?" I asked, walking into the living room and standing next to the TV.
"What?"
"You and I are going to the park later today. And I just got off the phone with our neighbor Jennie, and she said she would come with us."
"Really?" Lily turned to look at me, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised. It was really starting to melt my heart how much she enjoyed spending time with Jennie.
"Really."
"Yay!" she cried, bouncing in her seat on the couch and kicking her legs in excitement underneath the blanket.
"You know what that means, don't you?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips.
She shook her head.
"It's time for you to change out of those pajamas."
Lily and I spent the next couple of hours tidying up the living room and getting ready for the park, making sure to keep her incision site clean and protected. She seemed excited to put some real clothes on, and when I helped her tie her tennis shoes, I could tell from the look on her face that she was ready to play outside.
At three o'clock on the dot, Jennie knocked on our front door. I went to answer it with Lily trailing close behind, and the moment I opened the door, Lily reached out to wrap her arms around Jennie's waist.
"Oh, hi there," Jennie said, clearly touched by the hug. She looked at me and smiled, her eyes widening.
"I'm feeling a lot better," Lily said, letting go of Jennie and stepping back to look up at her. "I ate a lot of Popsicles."
"Popsicles, really? Mmm, I'm jealous. I haven't had one of those in a long time," Jennie replied, shaking her head.
As the two of them chatted in the doorway, I slung the backpack I'd packed over my shoulder that held the supplies to clean Lily's incision—just in case we needed them—as well as a couple of waters, an extra jacket in case she got cold, and a couple of granola bars in case she got hungry. I knew I was overreacting a little, but hey, I was still recovering from her surgery too.
Lily and Jennie continued chatting during the whole car ride over to the park, with Lily explaining what the hospital was like and exactly what it felt like when she woke up. I loved hearing how animated she got talking about this whole experience and appreciated how intently Jennie listened and followed along. I'd been worried that Lily might have been a little traumatized by the whole thing, but she was bouncing back even faster than I'd hoped—both physically and emotionally.
At the park, Lily led Jennie and me to her favorite playground, where she quickly found another little girl her age to play with and tell her hospital story to. Jennie and I watched the two of them chatter and giggle for a while before they climbed to the top of the slide, where they huddled together and giggled some more.
I called out to Lily to remember to take it easy—no running or jumping since she was still healing.
"I forgot how easy it is to make friends at that age," Jennie said with a smile, crossing her arms over her chest.
"It feels good to get some fresh air." I sighed and stretched out my arms. "I feel like I haven't talked to an adult in months."
"Well, that's not quite true," Jennie said, rubbing her arm. "How was your date?"
I paused. "Date?"
Jennie dipped her chin and gave me an incredulous look. "With Mina?"
Shit. "Oh, right. My date with Mina. God, does the fact that I completely forgot about it make me a total asshole?"
"Only half an asshole, I think." Jennie laughed. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I could have sworn she looked a little relieved.
"I'll take it." I looked over at her with a half grin. "Well, the date wasn't great, if that wasn't already clear." I chuckled, running my hand over the back of my neck.
"What happened?"
"She didn't do anything wrong. We just didn't really have anything in common besides our kids."
Jennie tilted her head, giving me a sidelong look. "That seems like a pretty big thing to have in common to me."
"You'd think it would help, wouldn't you?" I smiled wryly back at her. "But it turns out, sticking two single parents at the same dinner table isn't a surefire recipe for romance."
"I'm not sure that recipe exists," she said, looking down at her feet.
"Maybe not, but I did figure one thing out on that date."
"What's that?"
"That I missed you."
Jennie paused then, looking at me with wide, stunned eyes, clearly taken aback. "Lisa . . ."
"Don't worry, I know. I'm not trying to push you into a relationship. What we have is casual. Strictly physical. It's just . . . I would be lying if I said that my shitty date didn't make me wish you were the one I'd had a nice dinner with. Not Mina."
"It's not that I don't—"
"Really, you don't have to explain. I'm not asking you for anything more. It's just that sometimes I wish we wanted the same thing. But I'm not that guy. You made it clear what you want. I just need to accept that. It's on me."
Jennie opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get any words out, Lily came bounding back up to us with a surprising amount of energy.
"Dada, can I have a snack?" she asked, grabbing my hand and pulling it toward her.
"Sure, just give me one sec."
I pulled a granola bar out of the backpack and handed it to her. She quickly unwrapped it and took a huge bite. When I checked my watch, it made sense why she was so hungry. It was four thirty, her normal pre-dinner Popsicle time.
I really need to get her back onto our normal routine.
"Are you feeling tired at all, Lily?" I asked.
"I'm not tired," she said, scrunching her brows together and looking up at me with a stubborn look on her face.
"Okay, you can play for a little while longer," I replied.
Lily scampered off then to get her turn on the swing with her new friend.
"Has work been understanding of everything that's been going on?" Jennie asked.
I smiled, suddenly grateful for her merciful change of subject. We continued chatting for the rest of our time at the park and during the whole car ride back to the house. Everything seemed to be back to normal by then, and I silently hoped that she'd let my small confession go for good.
It's not that I regretted telling Jennie how I felt. I did wish that we wanted the same things. But she made it clear from the beginning what she wanted, and that didn't include long-term commitment or a kid.
No matter how I was starting to feel, or what I wanted, one thing was clear.
I needed to get over it.