James was asleep when Susan woke up. She walked past his room on her way to the kitchen for a drink. She checked the fridge – two boxes of Chinese food – for a moment, in her tiredness she'd thought it had been a dream. She tipped one box onto a plate and put it in the microwave.
Mark was on his bed (the couch...) flicking across TV channels and pretending to read a medical journal from the select dozen or so he'd brought with him (as opposed to the stack he'd packed in boxes which were now somewhere in limbo, I mean transit...).
"Thank you." She lifted her plate as if to make a toast.
"Yeah, it's not bad."
"Not bad for a Chinese restaurant called Danny's" she grinned.
Mark moved his books over and she sat down on the edge of the sofa bed, one sock clad foot tucked up under her and that knee serving as the table for her plate.
"Feel better?" he turned off the TV.
"Yeah. Much. Probably won't sleep for hours now though."
"You will if you read this." He closed the journal and put it on the floor. "So, good first day?"
"Yeah. It's gonna take me a while to get used to again but I think I'll manage."
"Of course you will."
She nodded, her mouth full. "What did you two get up to today?"
"Not much – bit of shopping, stopped at the park for a swing – for James." He grinned teasing.
She grinned. He fit this role so perfectly. Not that he was perfect, she knew better than that, but he just loved to be James' dad and that was what James needed. Plus it made Mark so happy – happier than Susan had seen him... ever, as far as she could remember. She loved to watch him talk about James and play with him... anything. The happy-family dream was addictive. She pulled herself out of it as she finished her plate.
"Anything on TV?"
"No." he passed her the remote. "You want to go for a walk?"
"What about James?"
"He can come."
Susan thought for a moment, "He does sleep deeply doesn't he?"
Mark nodded.
"A walk sounds great."
Susan pushed the pram at first, down their street and along a block of shops. At the end was a breezy café, doors wide open in the desert heat, Norah Jones wafting out with the scent of coffee and dessert on its wings.
"That smells good." Mark spoke softly in their comfortable silence.
"Yeah. They have a killer tiramisu."
Mark stopped walking in front of the menu board.
"And their breakfast bagels are on the divine side of gourmet. We'll have to come some time."
Mark grinned, "I could eat tiramisu now."
Susan looked at him for a second, not sure if the smile on her lips was elicited by the sparkle in his eyes or the thought of coffee moose and chocolate sponge and that illusive liqueur they staff refused to name. Bit of both perhaps. She nodded and followed him inside.
He pulled out a chair from the corner table closest to the open windows then pulled another chair away so there was room for the pram. Only a handful of customers were scattered around the room. The music was soft and she could hear their voices but couldn't decipher anything spoken. Mark's words to the waiter were clear though,
"How big is the tiramisu?"
The waiter must have shown him a glass, Susan's back was to them so she only guessed. "You and your wife could have one each." He suggested.
Mark stuttered, "Ah, yeah. And um..."
"Coffee?"
Mark turned around, "Susan, coffee?"
She turned around, pretending she hadn't been listening, "Ah, just an apple juice would be great."
Mark nodded and turned back, "and a tall black for me. Thanks."
He sat back down beside Susan but kept his eyes on James or the scenery. Both of which were appealing options – the sunset over the desert was stunning and James drooling in his sleep was irresistible.
"Are you okay?"
He finally looked up, "Yeah, of course."
"Because it's inevitable – you know that."
"What's inevitable?"
"People assuming we're all one happy family." She looked down at James, resenting the fact that a fiery intensity that was one moment undeniable attraction, could the next moment be a terrifying taunt to tell him how she felt for him – that it hadn't changed, or if it had, it was only more perfect and profound and adoring desperation.
"I guess."
They sat in silence until their dessert came. And other than a few words of appreciation (and the occasional groan of pleasure – as you'll know if you've ever fallen in love over/with tiramisu) they ate in silence.
"Is that so bad?" Susan asked eventually.
Mark took a deep breath and met her eyes without an answer. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. The assumption that they were all one happy family was only a constant tease with what he couldn't have. Pretending he didn't love her more with every breath was hard enough. He didn't really give a damn what people thought but ignoring the potential there had been between him and Susan was so consuming that any reminder was like a kick in the wrong place.
Susan finished her apple juice and pushed back her chair. "I'm tired. I think I'll take James home."
Mark pushed his chair back to follow her.
"It's okay, you take your time."
"No, I'm done." He pushed his half empty cup into the centre of the table and stood up. "Good choice."
"Yeah, bit of comfort food goes a long way." She smiled, trying to patch things over and pretend she couldn't be offended.
"True." Mark pulled the pram to him then pushed it out onto the foot path. Susan followed slowly, taking deliberate deep breaths and trying to ignore the tears pricking the back of her eyes.