“Of course I am.”
“What do you have to be nervous about? I’m the one who is screwed up.”
“Allison.” He steps a bit to the side and blocks my face from the sun, so now I can see him clearly. “Are you kidding me? I’mtotallynervous.”
I focus on the buttons of his shirt. “Why?”
“Because I like you,” he says. “Because I think there’s something between us, and I’m very afraid that I’m going to do the wrong thing again and send you running. And I don’t want that. If you’re going to go running anywhere, I’d prefer that you come running to me. I understand that we don’t know each other, not really, but...I’d just like to have coffee with you.”
“I’m worried thatI’mgoing to do the wrong thing again. And maybe I’m worried that when I buy you a coffee—yes, I’m buying—that I’ll order for you, and maybe you have a dairy allergy, and I’ll send you to the emergency room with some hideous anaphylactic reaction that will kill you. And that would really be the end of everything, and it’s taking all I have to do this, because this is supposed to be when Istartthings, not end them.” The wind sends a chill through me and blows my hair over my cheek. “Sorry for babbling.”
Esben lifts a hand and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I don’t have a dairy allergy. But I’ll drink whatever you buy me, because you’re totally worth a trip to the ER.” He winks.
“Then let’s go have coffee, and I’ll try not to do anything that might kill you.”
CHAPTER 13
BABY BLUE
The coffeehouse is indeed very comfortable, and the dark wood and mismatched furniture make me feel as though I’m in someone’s living room. Acoustic music floats above us, but otherwise it’s a fairly quiet spot. There is only one other customer, an older man, sitting in an armchair across the room. He’s not reading or doing anything. Just sitting there. I am immediately struck by how lonely he seems, but I brush that off, because I know nothing about this man. I have no right to assume anything about him, just as no one has a right to assume anything about me. I probably look like a normal human.
Esben and I are seated on a couch. He has his body turned my way, looking open and relaxed. I, of course, am sitting stiffly, facing forward and clutching my steaming mug.
“You like your drink okay?” he asks.
I’m about to give myself third-degree burns, and then the emergency room deal might become a reality. I take a quick sip and set the mug on the glass table in front of us. “I do.”
“You said you’re from Massachusetts. That you’d lived all over. But you have a family there now?”
“Sort of. I mean, yes. Simon. He adopted me when I was a junior in high school. He has a house in Brookline.”
“I love Brookline. Coolidge Corner is awesome. Such a fun area to walk around.”
“You’re from Massachusetts, too?” While I’ve explored some of Esben’s online presence, I have presumably barely tapped the surface, and I still don’t know basics about him.
“Framingham. Not as exciting as Brookline, and it was a drag to drive into Boston when I was a teenager, but it’s all right.” He sets down his drink and focuses on me. “So, you’ve got a single dad? And you like him?”
“I do like him. A lot. I don’t think I’m...” I can’t figure out how to say this or if I should. But I want to; I know that. I want to connect. Where’s a motivational button when I need it, huh? So, I breathe, and I speak. “It doesn’t make sense that Simon wanted to adopt me. I wasn’t warm or...the typical teen girl. I didn’t throw myself at the idea of adoption. I wasn’t anything a potential parent should want. But he still went ahead. I don’t get it. And Simon had a boyfriend when I first met him. Jacob.”
I shift in my seat so that I’m facing him and hopefully looking less frigid and weird. I check to see if Esben has any iota of a negative reaction to the news that my adoptive father is gay, but he’s simply waiting for me to continue. “They’d been together for four years, and once it became clear that Simon wanted me, that hereallywanted to adopt me, his boyfriend bolted. I haven’t asked Simon much about it, because it’s got to be a sore subject.”
Esben makes a face. “Kind of says volumes about that ex, huh?”
“Maybe. Simon wanted me...” I survey the room and take a second. “And he lost his boyfriend. Kind of proof positive that there’s always a trade-off. You let one person in; the other goes out.”
“I don’t think that’s true at all,” Esben says. “I’ve got two parents who are pretty awesome. And my sister, Kerry, who you met. She and I are really tight. Plus, I’ve got close friends. Jason and Danny are my best friends here, but I’m still in touch with people from high school. There doesn’t have to be a trade-off.”
“Maybe not for you.”
“Look, I imagine that spending most of your life in foster care didn’t exactly instill the belief that the world is all magical and full of glittery unicorns and fluffy bunnies and such. How could it?” Esben looks down and brushes something imaginary off his jeans. “Did you live with a lot of different families or only a few?”
I fall in love with the fact that his question is not filled with pity.
“Yes,” I say. “Too many.”
I tell him about changing schools and families and rooms and...everything. About how there were never constants. Ever. About the cycle of hope and the rejection that became routine until I was left with only rejection. I tell him everything, because once I start talking, I cannot stop. This purge, this truth, is a flood that I cannot stop. I have never told anyone besides Steffi these details, and they have been secrets that jailed me.
Esben listens attentively and allows me to tell him way more than he probably expected. I want him to know these facts about me and my life because if he’s going to bolt, I want him to do it now. I have a responsibility to make him aware of how fouled up my past is. It doesn’t take a genius to see how that would screw someone up. He should have an out if he wants it.