On Sunday evening, he called me. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How’s my Girl Friday?”
I smiled. “Good. Just doing some reading.”
“About what?”
“Autism research, actually.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. It’s very interesting, the genetic links they’re finding, what brain scans are revealing about neurological connectivity.”
“Yeah, I used to read some of that stuff, but it wasn’t very useful to me.”
“No?”
“No. It’s interesting, but there’s a disconnect, you know? I’m glad they’re making gains in understanding how autism looks in the brain, but that doesn’t help me deal with the meltdowns on my kitchen floor.”
“True,” I admitted. “What does help you?”
He sighed heavily. “Whiskey.”
I laughed and closed the window on my laptop. “How was your day?”
“Good. I’m on a homework break, and looking at the calendar for this week. Friday still work for you?”
“Yes. That’s perfect, actually.”
“Good. I’m going to get some groceries and come over at six.”
“I’ll supply the whiskey.”
“I don’t need whiskey with you. Just a way to stop time.”
I smiled, but I felt a little sad too. “I wish I could do it for you. I’ll see you Friday.”
• • •
On Thursday night, I met Natalie and Skylar for a drink at Trattoria Stella. They were already there when I arrived, Natalie sipping on water with lemon and Skylar still perusing the wine list.
“Hi there, Mrs. Pryce,” I teased, hugging her hello. “You’re looking tan and refreshed. Did you have fun on your honeymoon?”
“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled. “It was incredible. The beach, the sun, the sea, the food, the sex—everything.”
“Sounds like it.” Thrilled to find myself completely unenvious, I slipped my coat off and hung it on the back of my chair. “And how are you feeling, Nat?”
“Good. Tired, but what else is new?” She slurped on her straw. “Now tell Skylar about your date.”
Skylar, sitting between us, looked at me and raised one eyebrow. “Your date?”
“With Pine Sol,” Natalie went on before I could even get a word in. “And they had sex. Not in a closet this time.”
“Jeez, Natalie. I thought you wanted me to tell her about it.”
“And I thought you were never going to tell us secrets ever again.” Skylar looked smug as she poked my shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t hold out.”
“You were right. It was too good to keep in.”
She gasped. “I want details. Is he as big as he looks like he would be?”
I laughed, looking over my shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been overheard. “Relax. Let’s order some wine first.” I lowered my voice as I studied the list in front of her. “But hell yes, he is.”
“Gah! I can’t relax. This is too exciting!” She thumped my leg a few times.
“It is,” I admitted. “I’m excited too.”
She and I ordered glasses of pinot noir, which Natalie looked at longingly, and I filled Skylar in on the date. “I had three orgasms. Not even kidding.”
“Three times?” Skylar’s eyes bugged. “In an hour? Even I’m impressed.”
“It was very impressive.”
“So then what?” she went on eagerly. “Did he stay the night?”
“No. He can’t really do that because of his son.”
“Like, ever?” She paused with her wineglass halfway to her lips.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. We haven’t really talked about what this is yet. I mean, maybe sleepovers aren’t what he’s thinking for us.”
My sisters stared at me a moment. “What do you mean?” Natalie asked. “You think he just wants to be friends?”
“I just said, I don’t know.” I took a big drink of wine and confessed the truth. “And I’m kind of scared to ask.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m afraid of the answer,” I said quietly, staring into my glass. “I really like him.”
“I don’t think he’d be calling and texting and making plans with you in advance if he wasn’t interested in you in a more-than-friends way,” Skylar said confidently. “If he just wanted a fuck-buddy, he wouldn’t do all that. You’d get a text at two in the morning that says ‘Hey, can I come over?’”
“But you should still talk about it with him.” Natalie was firm too. “If you don’t, and both of you have different ideas about what you’re doing, feelings could get hurt.”
I sighed. “I know. We should talk. The truth is, I’m not sure there’s room in his life for a girlfriend, let alone anything beyond that.”
“Why not?” Skylar asked. “Plenty of single parents date and get remarried.”
“Yes, but his situation is a little different. His son, Scotty, has autism, and routine is really important to him. Levi is really sensitive to that.”
“Autism,” Skylar said, her brow furrowed. “OK, you’re going to give me the You’re Dumb and I’m a Doctor look, but is that where you don’t talk? I just remember the one autistic boy in my class not speaking much, if at all. And he wouldn’t make eye contact.”