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“How does that make you feel?”
“It doesn’t weird me out if that’s what you mean.”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“Does it weird you out?”
“Not at all.”
“I don’t understand why my Malcolm is coming through looking like that but I love it.”
“Maybe it’s our genetics. You and I do have the same coloring and similar features, so it makes sense that our children would resemble one another. Even in the spirit world.”
“I agree. I just wish I knew why my son was coming through to me at the same age as your son and not as an infant.”
“I wish I knew why too. But did your Malcolm talk to you again in your dreams?”
“No, but he did keep smiling at me and nodding his head. I sensed it was his way of telling me that everything is gonna be okay.”
“What’s gonna be okay?”
“My life with you. I’ve been praying about it. Is it wrong for me to do that? Praying for us to be blessed when we’re committing such sin?”
I searched Stevie’s eyes. “I think God understands.”
Stevie kept staring at me, then looked down at the cuts on my face. “He should. At least for you.”
“You too.” I glanced over at her Malcolm’s urn and then met Stevie’s gaze again.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am.”
We both grew quiet for about a minute, taking sips of our coffee. Then Stevie asked me how I was feeling about what happened with Avery last night.
“I’m numb about it. I knew it was just a matter of time before her true colors came back out,” I said.
“And all because you didn’t text her back.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t wanna deal with her. She wanted to know where I was and she wanted me to come home. She texted that she was missing me. The thing is—I’m not accountable to Avery. Whenever she goes to Lubbock, I don’t hear a word from her, so she can’t expect me to report to her. Even when she’s been at home, she goes and does as she pleases and doesn’t tell me a thing. I felt all of this coming to a head, especially over the past few days.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed. I really didn’t want to talk about it but could tell that Stevie needed me to.
“Avery started pouring her attention onto me. She started touching me more which I didn’t want, and I pushed her away several times. I told her to stop. I also told her that I didn’t wanna hear any more from her about us working out. She acted hurt, and like she couldn’t understand why I feel the way I do. Hell, I have a list that’s a mile long as to why, and she knows that. Anyway… The side of her you saw at the bar last night was a tiny glimpse of who she really is. You got a peek of how she is when she doesn’t get her way.”
“Do you really believe she was acting about her wanting to work out things with you?”
“I have no doubt about it.”
“How can you be sure? Maybe she finally woke up and realized what she has with you.”
“Hadwith me.”
