Strictly Platonic

Never in a thousand years would I have ever thought that it would one day come to this: I sitting in my car with my sulky five-year-old son, on our way to my hometown; the one place that I had sworn to never return to, but due to the current circumstances, I have no choice but to oblige. 

Seeing the light in your child’s eyes dim with sadness breaks you, but knowing that you are part of the reason he’s hurting is even worse. The only thing that’s keeping me together is knowing I’m doing what’s best for both of us. 

We’ve been on the road since ten o’clock this morning, it’s a little past noon now and he still hasn’t spoken a word. 

What’s he thinking about?

It breaks me to see how my little boy has gone from this cheery, talkative boy to this silent one, all in the span of twelve hours. 

Him, begging me on the verge of tears as I was packing up, to ‘forgive’ his dad, and even promising to make sure that his dad ‘behaves’ next time, is something that I never want to relive. 

It’s only logical that his five-year-old mind has found a way to cope with the sudden, chaotic change. Up until last evening’s dinner, he was a normal boy in a loving home and today he finds himself in a broken one.

I haven’t had the time to find the right words or moment to explain to him.

How do I tell him that his dad has never been in love with me? 

I had always told him that children are a result of true love. How do I tell him, that he was just a means of his dad trying to do his mum proud by giving her what she had always wanted; her grandchild.

Despite how much it breaks me, I’ll accept the cold treatment he’s giving me over having this painful conversation with him.

I take a quick look at him through the rearview mirror, his forest-green eyes momentarily connect with mine before he diverts them to the window. My heart clenches.  

Yep, he’s still upset.

“I think there’s an ice cream parlor around here somewhere,” I pretend to be thinking out loud. I know where it is situated simply because during my days my high school friends and I would go there practically every weekend for some girls treat. He loves ice cream and I’m trying to get back to his good graces or at least to see a smile from him. Even a tiny one. Just one. 

No reaction.

My little boy is broken, does it get any worse than this?

“Oh, well I guess we won’t be stopping for that delicious Vanilla ice cream,” I continue still pretending to be saying my thoughts out loud, emphasizing on ‘delicious’.

I glance at the rearview mirror, and our eyes connect, a bit longer than last time before he turns his head to the side. “I don’t like ice cream anymore, mummy.” 

A lie. That’s a blatant lie. I can almost see his mouth water.  

We are only half-way to our destination, after driving for so long, a little break will do both of us good. 

“Well, then I will only get some just for me,” I conclude, taking a right turn towards the parking lot of the ‘SO CREAMY’ ice cream parlor.

***

“Mmh, You really don’t want some,” I ask, taking a spoon full of my caramel-flavored ice cream. “Once I’m done with mine, I can eat yours…oh, it looks even more delicious than mine.”

It’s thirty minutes since we got here, and he is still sulking. He didn’t even want his order. His eyes are still a bit swollen from crying this morning and he looks like he could really use a nap.

Talk to me, sweetheart. 

I get it. This situation must be really convincing. In his logic, I’m the bad one for tearing him away from his dad, and not ‘forgiving’ him. 

I wish that I could tell him that there really wasn’t anything to forgive. Being gay isn’t a mistake but using me as an incubator, so that he could make his mum’s wish of becoming a grandmother, is another story.

I can’t exactly tell him that. I don’t even know how to put the truth in a digestible way for a five-year-old.

I’m aware that even the greatest mum in the world could never fill in the shoes of a father.

Clearly, the ‘ice cream’ trick isn’t working, I need to figure out something. 

There’s only one way through this.

Putting aside my ice cream, I reach out for his tiny hands on the table. “Hey, you’ll see your dad this weekend, ok?” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I’m saying.

I don’t know how co-parenting works, up until last night’s dinner I was still happily married, and he loves Brian too much to leave him, but I’m certain that making a decision without informing the other party isn’t the way. 

His face, for the first time today, lightens up. “Really, mummy?”

“Yes, jellybean,” I say with a smile I add, “only if you finish before me.”

“No!” He exclaims, quickly takes his ice cream, and starts digging in.

I smile, trying my best not to let the anxiety that’s creeping in, completely invade me.

***

Satisfied that Brian’s safety belt is securely fastened, I go to my driver's seat, fish out my phone from my handbag, and shoot a quick text to Nolan.

I part from the ‘I’ll be going to my mum’s place for a while’ post-it note that I left on the fridge for him this morning. Nolan and I haven’t really spoken. He did try to reach out this morning, but I wasn’t really ready to have that talk. 

I needed some space. We both do. 

‘Hey, do you mind Brian coming over this weekend?’

My phone’s battery is at five percent. I’m hoping that he replies on time. 

It’s not long before my phone vibrates. 

‘Hey, sure at what time exactly?’

I was about to type back my reply when my phone shuts down. 

Well, at least I was able to read his reply.

I take one last look at Brian’s sleeping form in the back seat, before turning on the engine and before long we are back on the road.

I’m about to turn right on the route to my home town when I noticed my car starts making some weird noise and I decide to pull over. 

I hardly pull over on the side of the road, before the engine stops. All on its own. 

Please not now.

An engine knock. Great.

Seeing as my phone is currently useless, and since there aren’t really any phone booths that are in sight, I opt to do the one thing that I never thought that I would ever do: Stop the oncoming traffic.

I’m not completely oblivious to the fact that I might as well be attracting predators. I mean the world isn’t filled with good Samaritans, but the fact that it’s daytime reassures me. 

Feeling a little dizzy from standing in the sun for long, with no success in getting someone to pull over for us, I decide to head back to my car and also check up on Brian.

I’m one leg up, reading to enter the car, when I hear a car stop behind mine.

Thank goodness.

I throw a glance at Brian, his chest lifts and then falls.

He’s ok.

I put down my leg, and direct my attention to the car. 

The door opens, and a man alights. He’s wearing sunglasses, a marine blue shirt and a pair of orange beach shorts. 

“Hi, do you need some help,” he says upon reaching me, withdrawing his sun glasses, exposing his crystal blue eyes, and tucking his pair of sunglasses on the neck line of his T-shirt.

If I wasn’t still so in love with Nolan, I would have found him hot.

“Hi, yeah, my car broke down, and won’t start,” I reply, directing my thumb towards my car that’s beside me.

“Uh Ok, do you mind if I take a look?” He asks, looking down at me. 

Afraid that Brian might be dehydrated due to extreme summer heat, I decide to go back check on him. 

“I’m just going to check up on my son,” I call out to him, as he heads towards the hood of my car, I don’t wait for a reply, I towards the passenger's seat that’s on the other side of Brian’s seat.

“Can I have some pasta please,” Brian asks, as he rubs his eyes, and then stretches a little. 

“Jellybean, we need to fix our car first, then we can go get some salad, is it?” I tease. He hates salads. Pasta is his favourite meal, if it weren’t for me sometimes forcing him to eat something different, I’m almost sure he wouldn’t mind living off of pasta. 

He screws up his face while violently shaking his head, before making a gagging sound. “Yuck!”

I pretend to be annoyed, “Did you just say that salads are yucky?” He notices my tone,and instantly protects his sides with his little arms, but before he knows it, I’m already attacking. It’s not long before the car is filled with his uncontrollable laughter.

“Sala—aah” he breaks out into another fit of laughter as I continue with my merciless attack.

I stop, giving him some time to breathe. “What did you say about salads?”

He swallows. “So yummy, mummy,” he intelligently lies.

“Ok, do you still have some water your bottle?” 

He nods, before I can say anything, reaches out for his bottle and starts drinking. 

Smart kid.

“I will be back.” 

I reach him in time as he closes the hood. I wait for him to turn around. 

He scratches his head, I practically just met him but I know that’s a sign of bad news. “The reparations will cause you the price of a new car.”

No. Not now I can’t. Brian needs this pasta this evening. He needs to sleep in a safe place.

The dizziness in my head is back. 

“Are you—” 

A mermaid?

His panicked voice is the last thing I hear before my world shifts and is enveloped in darkness.