Remember When ↠ l.p.

Was I?

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I ask Liam as he ducks his head awkwardly as the girls run around the kitchen playing. He's leaning against the counter and rubbing his hands together in a fidgeting manner. 

"I was hoping you would ask me to," he smiles up at me. "I didn't know how to ask...would I have asked? I mean, would I have asked in the past?" 

I get a burst of reassurance that I'm doing the right thing. He's not ready, I'm not ready. I have to keep reminding myself that, as stupid as it sounds. The mind likes to play with what ifs and dreams. Just as I might have a terrifying vision of what could be waiting behind the bathroom door before I open it, doesn't mean that it's there. It's a terror that my imagination creates, not a reality. I make a note to call mother to have a long chat about whether I'm imagining certain things. However I'm obviously not going to mention some reservations I have about how he discerns me when he remembers everything I've done to him...

"You probably would have somehow. I don't know how it would have been, sorry." I frown. As much time as I did spend with him, it wasn't always learning about the mundane everyday things. We talked about the girls, parenting, sometimes I slipped in a question about his past in One Direction. Asking him how it really felt at Madison Square Garden or at Wembley. Or the day that Larry came out. But we never really got to the point where we just knew things. I mean, I know things, but that's more of facts, not necessarily personality traits. "We had a routine, where we would have dinner once a week together. That sort of took away from the awkward settling of dinner plans." I glance over to see him nodding sagely at the floor. I snicker quietly and turn back to the stove. 

"Are you laughing at me?" He asks, making it clear that I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was being. His voice sounds  a little hurt and I spin back around to him.

"No, no. I wasn't laughing-I mean, I wasn't laughing at your question. You just looked, sweet for a moment there. It made me happy." I finish quietly. 

"Really?" His cheeks tinge with a blush slightly. 

"Yes, that's all I was laughing at. I promise." I lean over and rest a hand on his arm. "I know that you sometimes can't remember or get a feel of how things were before. I wouldn't mock that."

"Thank you," he says. "and I'm sorry if my 'mommy' comment earlier made you uncomfortable. I was thinking about it later and it really was rather uncalled for. I just get these urges sometimes. Like I need to say something or do something and it doesn't feel right, but I still do it."

I frown and nod for him to continue. Has he told his doctors about this?

"I can't really explain what it feels like, it's not always something bad. It's always unexpected. And while I don't think that it means I'm out of control, I don't try not to say or do whatever I feel urged to." He shrugs. "I don't feel very weird when it happens, but I do know that I wouldn't normally have done whatever I just did or said. I don't mean to offer this as an excuse, just to explain that I know it was rather odd to say..."

"No, it's fine. I say things that I shouldn't plenty of times. I told a woman at the store the other day that she looked like doge." I snort and roll my eyes. It was an ordeal. For one, she didn't know doge was a meme, so that was in my favor. Unfortunately doge still sounds close to the word dog, so things still didn't end well.

"What's doge?" Liam asks, confused. "A french dog?"

"It's a meme, from the internet. Kind of a viral picture sort of thing." I try to explain as I try to flip over our quesadillas. I wince as some of the grease in the pan hits my arm. I rub it away quickly and glance over my shoulder. Liam still looks confused. "I'll show you after dinner, anyway. Um, have you told your doctors about your impulses?" I try to pass it off casually but from the look on Liam's face I know he understood the reasoning behind my question.

"You think it's the-uh-other guy?" 

"You sound like Bruce Banner when you talk like that." I sigh. "But yes, it could be. Anyway, you're supposed to mention every detail to your doctors in case something is important. I don't know, that might be something common. I'm not a doctor, so I don't know."

He frowns but agrees. "I'll mention it tomorrow. I guess you're right." He looks around at the now barren kitchen. "Where...?" He peeks out into the hall and no doubt sees one of the girls or a trail of toys leading into one of the rooms.

"They're trying to escape the chore of setting the table." I explain to him.

"Was I the type of guy who would offer to set the table?" Liam asks, with a smile.

"You would be actually!" I grin back. "I'm not just saying that either. If you weren't helping Sophia with a fancy meal in the kitchen you were setting the table with me."

"I should be a pro at this, in that case." He says. "Point me to your plates and I'll get started." I show him the right cabinet and which plates to use for the girls before starting to lift the now cooked quesadillas onto a platter. 

"Dinner time girls!" I call a few minutes later, bringing them running in giggling. They beam at Liam when they see the table already set. Tessie goes as far to pull him down to her height to give him a kiss on the cheek. I suppose I'll have to find them another chore to do that they enjoy more. We sit down and enjoy a lovely family dinner, within view of Tessie's family portrait that we've hung on the refrigerator for the time being.