Page 17 of 10 Signs You Need to Grovel

“Three things to say when you’re faced with your ex who disappeared into witness protection?”

She covers her mouth again, giving her head a bewildered shake. “God, we’re a pair.”

“What can I get you?” Our waiter smiles down at us, giving me a moment to get my bearings. Soak in the fact that Sadie’s here, sitting across from me.

We order coffees and ask for waters. He leaves. The awkward silence resumes.

When my ribs feel like they’re about to cave in, I lean my elbows on the table. “I have so many questions. About you—how you’re doing, what you’re doing. About Max and whatever he’s going through. Is he okay?”

“He is, but he’s changed so much recently. Become introverted to the point I’m a bit concerned. And I’m so sorry it took so long before we could meet. Work’s been crazy. I’m finalizing a project, and I had sitter issues, and . . .”

“And?” I prod, not liking how guilt ridden she sounds.

“I was also delaying, I think. Hoping Max would have a turnaround, and I’d be able to bring him with me.”

“Sadie, it’s fine. Don’t apologize for being a good mom. I’m slotting myself into your schedule, not the other way around. If you have reservations about me meeting Max right now, I’m sure you have good reason. Can you tell me more about him?”

“What do you want to know?”

“What kinds of food does he eat?” The simpler stuff to start. Let Sadie relax into this talk.

She smiles. “Carbaholic like you, but experimental. Loves all mushrooms. Even the weird ones.”

I like that he’s an adventurous eater, like his mother. Curious and open minded. “Is he good in school?”

“His reading was delayed, but he’s zoomed past kids his age now. Reads all sorts of books that kind of surprise me. I should probably enforce more parental controls, but I’m so happy whenever I see him with a book. Can’t bring myself to take one away.”

I picture Max joining my book club of two, discussing the marzipan from Denise Mina’s Deception, analyzing if sugar can enhance an erotic experience—Mom’s horrifying contribution.

Might be too young to join.

Our coffee and waters are set down as I ask Sadie more questions. I grill her on what Max was like as a baby (cried nonstop), if he’s big for his age (skinny but tall), if he’s lost his baby teeth (all but three). I steer clear of landmines like Does Max have any father figures in his life? but I can’t gather enough other details. I’m on the brink of starvation, living off of nothing but Max Minutiae.

Even the parts that are more worrying. “Him becoming more closed off—any idea why?”

She takes a slow sip of her coffee. “I get the sense that he feels like he doesn’t fit in with other kids. We moved to Windfall recently, and I think he was happy to make the change. But moving is also tough. It takes time to make friends and adjust, and starting a new school when the year’s almost done isn’t easy. Kids get mean and—”

“Kids are mean to him?” The snarl in my voice is impossible to suppress. My arms instantly flex. Is this what they mean when they say a parent would do anything for their kid? I haven’t even met Max. Already, I’m bristling to take names and terrorize.

“Maybe. It’s hard to get a straight answer out of him. He’s quieter than he used to be, won’t let me in his room. Spends lots of time drawing.”

“Like E.” I smile at the notion, then slowly frown. All I did growing up was goad E. Torment him for drawing instead of tossing a football with his obnoxious brothers. Probably exactly what Max is going through with his friends, and I’m supposed to be the role model.

“So . . . meeting me,” I hedge, feeling less secure in my plan, “you’re worried whatever’s keeping him closed off will get worse?”

“Maybe? I took him to a counselor before we moved to Windfall, but it didn’t help much, and I haven’t found someone new who has time yet. He just seems so fragile right now. As much as I hate making you wait, I was wondering if you mind delaying meeting him a bit longer.”

“Actually,” I say through my buzzing nerves, “I have another suggestion.”

She nibbles her lip. “Okay.”

“If you want me to wait, I’ll wait. The final decision’s yours, but even if we wait, I imagine he’ll feel a lot of pressure around me. The buildup to meeting me will create more stress for him?”

Sadness seems to weigh her down. “It will.”

“But if he meets me without knowing who I am, we might be able to bypass that anxiety. If he already knows me when we tell him I’m his dad, the transition might go more smoothly.”

She frowns but doesn’t interrupt as I explain about the hikes I’ll be leading, that if she signs him up, I’ll have time to build trust with him. Develop a gradual bond.