Chapter 18 - The Man at the School Carnival
The man I eventually dated wasn't dramatic.
His name was Daniel.
I met him at the elementary school carnival.
He was helping run the ring-toss booth.
His daughter, Sophie, was in Noah's grade.
I didn't notice him romantically at first.
He wore an embarrassing volunteer T-shirt and had blue paint on his cheek.
Lily threw a ring directly at his head.
He caught it.
“Great aim.”
She giggled.
Weeks later, we ran into each other at a coffee shop.
Then again at soccer.
Eventually, he asked:
“Would it be inappropriate if I asked you to dinner?”
I surprised myself.
“No.”
Our first date felt strange.
Not because Daniel did anything wrong.
Because he asked questions.
Real questions.
“What do you do when you aren't working or parenting?”
I opened my mouth.
For years, that question would have frightened me.
Now I had answers.
“I run.”
“Photography.”
“Bad jazz clubs.”
He smiled.
“Bad jazz?”
“The worse the chairs, the better the music.”
He laughed.
There was no explosion.
No instant romance.
Just ease.
After three months, I told Mark.
He nodded.
“Good.”
I studied him.
“That's it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don't know.”
He smiled sadly.
“I want you happy.”
I believed him.
Then he added:
“Just don't let some idiot treat you like baggage.”
I laughed.
“You set a memorable example.”
“Ouch.”
“Too soon?”
“A year and a half, Sarah.”
“Still funny.”
Daniel met the kids slowly.
Carefully.
He never tried to replace Mark.
That mattered.
The first time they met, Mark shook his hand.
Awkward.
Polite.
Civilized.
Later Mark texted me:
He seems okay.
I replied:
Your approval was not required.
He answered:
I walked into that one.
I smiled.
Maybe this was what healing looked like.
Not forgetting.
Not returning.
May you like
Being able to remember without bleeding.
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