Despite their awareness that something was changing in their relationship, the work week went on normally. If anything, they were more cautious of onlookers as if having aired their feelings aloud automatically meant everyone else was in on it too. But they knew better than to shake up their routine. Suddenly keeping a certain distance would only intrigue the others.
"Hey," Harry said as Christine walked into his office on Friday. "I got the tickets for tonight."
"Great! I need a pick me up. Charlie's been fussy for two days. Tony was supposed to take him tonight but canceled last minute — again — so I'm late because I had to get a sitter… sorry. I'm done. What are we seeing?"
Scrunching his nose, he answered, "Miss Saigon."
"Great," she said after a couple of seconds, forcing a light tone. "I need a good cry."
Getting up from his desk, Harry gave a sympathetic smile as he walked over to her. "You can choose next time."
"It's all right," she chuckled. "I'll be sure to bring a pack of tissues."
"Got 'em right here," he said, patting his breast pocket.
"My hero," she fake-swooned.
Nudging her arm before moving to get his robe, he said, "Come on, let's get to work. I don't want to miss the opening number."
. . .
"I'm sorry," Christine whispered, trying to stifle her cries during the applause for I'd Give My Life for You.
Harry grasped her hand tighter. "I'm sorry," he whispered back. He'd read tons of reviews about the musical and knew of the heaviness of the plot, but he hadn't anticipated such intensity. While his choosing this had been partially intentional, secretly hoping it might lead to offering Christine a moment of comfort, he hadn't expected the content that was surely wreaking havoc on a still new mother's heart.
Christine clutched Harry's arm, burying her face in the shoulder of his jacket until she could reign in her emotions. He let her hang on for the rest of the show.
. . .
"From now on, you get to pick all of our outings," Harry said as they walked to their cars still parked at the courthouse.
"At least the next twelve."
"Deal. But if Mel comes to town, there's no contest. We're going."
"Obviously," Christine chuckled.
"All I beg of you is not to drag me to another quilting symposium. You don't even quilt."
"But now I can if I want to. Besides, you owed me big time after ditching me when you were hob knobbing with New York's elite."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I've apologized a hundred times."
Christine squeezed his hand but said nothing more. Neither of them had fully realized they'd walked all the way from the theatre hand in hand. After having clung on to him for the past three hours, this felt like distance. It wasn't until they reached the parking lot that they finally noticed. When they did, they laughed, almost reluctantly letting go.
"Sorry," she said. "I've probably smothered you tonight."
"It's all right," he smiled. "I get the feeling that wasn't all about the show."
"Harry… she sacrificed herself for her son. I came into work today cranky because Charlie has been refusing to take his naps. I got angry with Tony because I felt I deserved a break after this minor inconvenience. Can you imagine raising a child through a war? You've heard Quon Le's stories. You know how truly terrible it was."
Grabbing her shoulders, Harry said, "Christine, it was a musical. Yes, there is an element of truth behind its inspiration, but it doesn't mean you're a terrible mother because you're tired."
"It's nothing compared to what people faced there."
"But you're not there. You're here. You're in the situation you're in. I have no doubt if you were faced with an extreme situation, you'd make the decisions you need to in order to protect your son."
Christine sighed. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being too emotional about this. I know it's just a musical… more or less. I don't know. I guess I'm not as recovered from the divorce as I thought I was. I'm past the hurt of Tony leaving. I'm even past missing his companionship. Now I have to deal with the reality of balancing work, a child, and still wanting to hold on to the life I once had."
Harry's hands had since slid down back to her hands. She looked down at the way they were standing, letting out another breath as she let go. "And I feel bad for dragging you into this mess. I should be allowing you some space."
"I don't want space," he said in earnest. "Isn't this part of our deal? See what happens?"
"Yeah."
"I know that things are messy right now. I'm okay with it all. As depressing as the show was, maybe it was good that it allowed you to let some of this out."
"Maybe. But I still feel bad for not being good company."
"You're always good company."
With a weak smile, she said, "Thank you. For everything."
Harry felt himself leaning into her, a natural response to the proximity they'd shared all evening. A part of him was screaming to stand up straight, to not complicate things even further for her. At least not tonight. But when she tipped her head up to meet him, there was no backing out. Nor did he want to.
Though this wasn't the first time they'd kissed, it was the first time either of them had been filled with such relief. For weeks they'd been tiptoeing around the draw they felt. Now it was finally happening, that barrier was finally broken.
Harry pulled back seconds later, not willing to overstep any farther no matter what they'd agreed to about seeing where things take them. The fact was that he couldn't have picked a worse location unless they were inside the courthouse altogether. Standing in the parking lot was a risk if they wanted to keep things quiet.
For a moment, he could see a flash of disappointment cross Christine's expression. The kiss had been more than a fleeting peck, but it hadn't made them oblivious to the outside world.
"I shouldn't have done that," Harry stammered, taking a step back toward his car. "The timing was wrong. I mean, you've been… I didn't mean to…"
"Harry, it's okay. Really, it is."
"Are you sure?"
"I kind of expected you'd kiss me tonight. You wanted to when you left my place last weekend."
"That obvious?"
"To me," she said with a nervous grin. "I was hoping you would."
"Really?"
She nodded.
This didn't do much for the onset of nerves he was feeling. He couldn't bring himself to step back toward her. Instead, he kept moving backwards. "I'll see you… I had a nice time tonight. I mean, being with you. Sorry again about the show."
She started to follow him around to the driver's side. "Will I see you in the morning?"
"Oh yeah, Saturday. Yeah. I think so."
"Harry—"
"If not, I'll see you Monday."
Christine stepped to the side as Harry got into his car, wasting no time in turning the ignition and driving away.
. . .
Christine wasn't surprised when Harry didn't knock on her door early the next morning. Disappointed, but not surprised. She knew Harry well enough to know that he needed space to process what was happening between them. Being aware of this didn't make it any easier not to pick up the phone and call him. She wasn't willing to put things on the line any more than they were.
It had been easy to laugh off the times they'd kissed before. Either it was a fleeting moment under the mistletoe or they were certain they were facing death after a day of arguing. It was different this time. It wasn't Harry being silly or the two of them making up. It was sane and serious. She only hoped that he'd be able to sort things out instead of becoming distant.
Unfortunately, she was the opposite. She wanted to be with him figuring this out, not waiting and wondering. With how they parted, she didn't know what to make of the kiss, only that as it was happening, she felt still. There hadn't been many moments like that since Charlie was born. Certainly none since Tony had left.
As the clock approached 9:30, she resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be seeing Harry this weekend. She began to wonder if they'd made a mistake. Were they actually forcing things by telling themselves they weren't? Up until now, romance had always been off limits. Those reasons why hadn't changed. They'd acknowledged as much. If anything, there was more reasons now not to be together. They'd been friends too long. They'd gone through things that only good friends could survive. Maybe going against that was a mistake.
Then why did she feel so at home with him? Why did everything feel okay for a few seconds when he kissed her?
She jumped when there was a knock on her door. Lifting Charlie off her lap, she dared not hope it would be Harry. She vaguely remembered a neighbor mentioning she was going to drop off leftovers from a bake sale, but couldn't remember if that was this weekend or the next. When she opened the door to see Harry standing there shyly, his hat in hand, none of that mattered.
"Hi," she said, the relief she was feeling far too evident in her voice.
"I know I missed The Flintstones… I'm sorry."
"That's an apology for Charlie," she half-smiled.
"I figured," he said, revealing a small bouquet of flowers from under his hat. "This is your apology."
Reaching out when he handed the bouquet to her, she breathed, "Harry, you didn't have to."
"Yes, I did. I panicked last night. I don't know why."
"You don't need to figure that out on your own. We're going through this together, all right?"
Harry nodded.
"Come inside," she said, pulling on his arm.
"Just a minute-"
He pulled her out into the hall, just out of view from the sofa where Charlie sat fumbling with one of his toys. Before Christine could ask why, Harry was kissing her again.
Much like the night before, the moment was fleeting, but somehow, more firm both in force and intention.
"Let's start over, huh?"
Christine nodded.
"I want to figure this out," he finished.
"So do I."
"Do you think I made it in time to catch The Jetsons?"
"Possibly," she laughed. "Go sit with Charlie. Have you had breakfast?"
"No, I was too busy beating myself up about being too much of a coward to face you."
Rolling her eyes, she brushed him off. When she returned, she handed Harry his bowl of cereal.
"Fruit Loops!" he cheered when he saw the colors in his bowl.
Christine just smiled.