PRESENT…
SABINE
Pam’s screen door creaked open before Sabine could put the car in park. She stepped onto the porch with her phone in one hand and a Tupperware container in the other. “He’s been good,” she called out before she even made it all the way up the path. “Ate like he had a job and a paycheck.”
Sabine forced a smile, tugged her cardigan tighter around her frame. “Thanks, Miss Pam.”
“You keep on wit that Miss Pam shit,” she warned, just like every week. “You married into this family, Sabine. Still part of it, no matter what.”
The door swung open behind Pam, and Ade came barreling out. “Mommy!” He crashed into her legs, clutching her thighs, his small voice muffled in the fabric of her dress.
“Hey, baby.” Sabine knelt, peppering kisses all over his cheeks, breathing him in like she’d been holding her breath all week. “You got big on me again,” she pouted.
Ade grinned, already breathless from excitement. “Daddy bought me the blue race car and I beat him in Mario Kart three times!”
“Three?” She widened her eyes in playful shock. “Wow. Your daddy must be slipping.”
“No, I’m just good,” Ade smirked, popping his collar, every single bit of his father in him. He was his Adair’s face with her eyes. Wide and brown and always curious.
Pam laughed from the porch. “Boy, go get your things. Don’t leave nothin’ behind again, I ain’t Uber.”
As Ade ran back inside, Sabine stood, her eyes lingering on the doorway for a moment longer than they should have. She knew what was coming before it happened. It always happened.
Adair stepped out. He looked tired in that end-of-a-long-week kind of way, button-down rolled at the sleeves, slacks slightly creased, but still every inch the man who used to kiss her forehead before sunrise and rub her feet after work. The man who once made her laugh until she cried, and now sometimes just made her want to cry. He stood beside his mother, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a toy car.
“Hey,” he said, voice low.
Sabine kept her tone cool. “Hey.”
He held her gaze for a beat, then looked down. “You get the email about the fall program? For STEM?”
“I did. I’ll enroll him tomorrow.”
“You think he’ll like it?”
“He’ll love it.”
A pause stretched between them. He studied her like he always did. Like he was searching for the woman she used to be; the one who used to love him openly, shamelessly, the one who used to fold herself into his arms without question.
Adair exhaled. “Alright.”
Pam crossed her arms, watching the exchange from a few feet away. Her lips pursed in thought. She’d watched this dance play out every week for a couple years now. But the way Adair looked at Sabine…it hadn’t changed once. Her baby was still in love. Even when he tried not to be.
And Sabine? She was still Sabine. Proud. Poised. But soft when it came to her son. And when it came to Adair…Pam could see it. That guardedness wasn’t hate. It was hurt.
Their son came bounding back out, this time with a suitcase, that he only stuffed with toys, dragging behind him and a crumpled piece of paper in one hand. “Mommy, look! I drew a family rocket ship!” He shoved it into her hands proudly. A lopsided rocket colored with crayons. Three stick figures inside.
Sabine smiled. “This is amazing. Who’s flying it?”
“Daddy is. And you’re doing the computer.” He pointed at each scribbled figure. “And I’m the alien.”
Sabine laughed, genuine and full. “Sounds about right.”
“Don’t forget to show Mommy your robot moves tonight.”
“I won’t daddy!”
Pam crouched and kissed Ade on both cheeks, smoothing his shirt collar. “You be good, sugar. Grandma loves you. And eat them green beans your mama makes or I’ma know about it,” she gave him her fake threatening smile before handing him the container of cookies.