70
The morning goes well. Izzy and Phil chat a little, and even though it's clear they'll never be the best of friends, for obvious reasons, it's more relaxed that I thought they'd be able to manage before we came over today. Phil is respectful and treats her with courtesy, and that's good enough for me.
We leave before lunch, but Izzy promises to bring Jimmy back tomorrow morning, before she flies home in the afternoon.
We eat lunch together at a little diner Izzy knows, and I earn a well-natured roll of her eyes when I insist on getting Jimmy the huge chocolate ice-cream sundae he asks for that she insists he won't eat. She's right of course, but the kid was having a good day, so I figured why ruin it over a four dollar dessert?
"What are your plans for this afternoon?" I ask.
"I'd like to visit the cemetery, take some flowers for my mom," she replies. "You're welcome to tag along."
I'm not sure what the etiquette is with offers like this. Is she asking out of politeness or does she genuinely want me there?
"You're sure you don't want to be alone."
"It's fine, I'm taking Jimmy anyway. It used to be a ritual of ours when we lived here. It's the only thing I really miss about being away from Phoenix."
~S~
"Will you come over tonight when Jimmy's sleeping?" Izzy asks me as we walk back to the car at the cemetery.
"Yeah, if you want me to," I tell her. "Are you still feeling uneasy?"
She smiles.
"Not so much," she tells me. "I just prefer your company to being alone."
~S~
I'm laying back on the bed in my room with a beer, when she texts me to say Jimmy's asleep. I grab my jacket and cap, flick off the TV on my way past and head out into the rain that started falling around a half hour ago. I run across the parking lot and around another block of rooms to reach Izzy's, but the raindrops are still dripping from the peak of my cap when she opens the door and welcomes me in.
"Are you sure we won't disturb him?" I ask in a whisper, with a nod to the little boy snuggled down in the bed across the room.
"I doubt it, he's exhausted." She smiles and reaches out for my wet jacket, arranging it on the back of a chair in the corner where the drips won't hurt and putting my cap on the edge of the wash basin in the corner.
We spend a minute communicating non-verbally. She gestures to the bed, I raise my eyebrows teasingly, she gives me a withering look, but then flashes me a smile. I kick my shoes off and make myself comfortable, pulling the pillows up to lean back against, and she joins me, sitting to my right and handing me one of two beers in her hands.
We watch TV and murmur comments to one another about the stuff we watch. And then, during an ad break, she asks me something I've been wondering myself.
"What happens when we get back home?"
She's biting her lip and looking apprehensive.
"What do you want to happen?" I ask her.
"It's been nice spending time with you," she replies.
We're both doing a pretty good job of avoiding answering one another's questions so far.
"Why don't we try being twenty-two for a change?" I suggest.
She looks at me in confusion, so I try to clarify what I mean. "We spend all our time with responsibilities we're too young for, hanging over our heads. Why don't we stop taking this so seriously and just schedule in some 'twenty-two' time just for us? We don't have to involve the kids in any of it. Let's just date."
Finally she nods her head.
"That sounds kind of perfect."
~S~