Her hand trembled as she put the key into the lock, and this time I had no qualms about reaching out to help her steady it. Together, we turned the key, and I saw her wince at the loud noise of it clicking back. I felt like we were sneaking her back home again, like a couple of bad teenagers out past curfew and there was something thrilling about that thought. I kissed the top of her head, brushing my lips down to whisper in her ear. "I like sneaking around with you."
She stifled the laugh behind her hand and then shushed me before pushing the door open. Immediately, she kicked off her shoes, and padded in her sock feet up the stairs.
I followed more slowly, giving her a second to get her bearings so that when I reached the top of the stairs, she had already had Malcolm scooped up into her arms. He peered out at me from underneath the curtain of her curls. "You awake?" I asked him.
He sat up and blinked, jamming a chubby fist into his eyes and rubbing it in the endearing way that toddlers have before he flopped back onto Charlie's shoulder. She grinned and bounced him up and down once. "We got home just in time," she whispered with a smile. "He always wakes up right around two and wants a snack. He's actually nocturnal, you know."
I chuckled under my breath. "What do you usually do when it happens? You know, on nights when you haven't been out gallivanting with your gentleman caller."
She rolled her eyes at me. "I usually pack a little cooler, actually," she said. "My mom calls it his bug-out bag. That way we don't have to make a bunch of noise going downstairs looking for food for him, and he stays sleepy in his crib and falls back asleep that much easier."
"I take it we're not doing that tonight?"
She looked up at me with hope in her eyes. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind?" she said, hugging him tighter. I saw her relief at being with him and it squeezed my heart.
I shook my head. "Not at all," I told her gently, and it was the truth.
I followed her back down the stairs, watching the pattern of the way she walked so as not hit any of the creaky floorboards. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, she turned and looked at me. "Please take him for a second?" she asked.
This was different. Something was different here. Beaming with pride, I nodded. "If he'll take me," I said, extending my hands. "Hey, little buddy? Want to come see Uncle Jameson?"
"Da," Malcolm said and readily reached for me.
As I settled him on my hip, I watched the expressions flickering across Charlie's face, most of them unreadable but some of them so transparent I could tell exactly what she was thinking.
She liked this. She trusted me.
And what's more, I liked it and trusted myself.
As I folded his small body back into my arms, it felt like a hollow that had been scooped out of my body was being filled in again. Without even realizing, I bent to kiss his sweaty little forehead. "Hey there, little man," I said softly. "You get hungry in the middle of the night? Me too."
"Usually he likes cheese," Charlie said warmly. "Good for filling him up, you know, protein and fat. I'll go grab it."
"Oh yeah, cheese?" I cooed. I don't think I'd ever cooed in my life but it seemed the most natural thing in the world to coo at this heavy, floppy toddler in my arms. "You like your dairy products, do you, little man? They're yummy aren't they." I was starting to babble in that inane way all adults adopt when they talk to babies. Even though I was rarely around babies, it seemed to be some kind of instinctual thing.
Or maybe it was just around this baby. Her baby.
"You can bring him in here," Charlie called softly from the kitchen. I followed her voice and walked over to the other end of the small round kitchen table that sat jammed in the corner. She patted the high chair and I set him down reluctantly and stepped back, alarmed at how oddly empty my arms felt now felt. Needing to touch someone, I reached out to brush Charlie's arm and she smiled at me.
"You hungry too?" she asked.
I smiled. "You think I need a snack in the middle of the night like a toddler?"
She shrugged. "Hell. I do it. No judgment here."
I thought for a second. "Yeah, gimme some of that cheese. Looks delicious."
She laughed and unpeeled a piece of string cheese for me - as if I couldn't do it myself - and handed it over.
I chomped down on it and rubbed my belly. "Mmm, toddler food."
Her eyes sparkled. "Something to drink?"
"Have any juice?"
"You want a juicebox?" She looked over at the high chair. "Malcolm might not want to share."
"I won't steal your juiceboxes, little man." I reached over and ruffled his hair. He gave me a serious look and shoved a wad of cheese in his mouth. "You're a funny little dude."
"He makes me laugh on a daily basis," she sighed. "I wish I could spend more time with him."
I suspected, but I had to know. "His dad is..?"
"Not a dad," she replied firmly.
I growled. I'd never really considered it, but all at once, the thought of not being in my child's life was incomprehensible to me. "You're it?" I asked in admiration.
She shrugged. "And my mom. Thank God I have her."
"That is lucky."
She turned. "You really are a big believer in luck aren't you?"
I pressed my lips together. Luck led me back to Reckless Falls. Luck kept me here, with her, when I was ready to leave. Luck sent me back here again after I'd thought the deal was already finished so I could be here in this kitchen with her and her son at two in the morning eating string cheese.
I reached out and grabbed her hand. "Of course I believe in luck. Luck led me to you."