I don't want to wake her up. I doubt she fell asleep when I did, and I know it's still incredibly early for her. I have to talk to her, though. I sit on the bed beside her and brush the hair from her face. I feel like I've aged ten years since I've seen her, and she somehow looks even younger. I run my hand down her back, suddenly unsure of myself. I haven't laid a hand on a woman in 4 years. I've barely interacted with anyone but children. Seeing her in my bed seems slightly surreal.
Finally, she stirs. Those big brown eyes flutter open, and I grin like a fool when she smiles up at me. "Good morning, gorgeous."
"Good morning. What time is it?"
"About 8."
"The kids are at school?"
I nod. "I have to get Stella at 1. The big kids will be home at 3." She sits up and looks around, and I watch her try to take it in. This is hardly the life I used to have. I still play, of course, but it's been years since I stepped on a stage. I wonder if she'll think I'm boring.
She looks at me, obviously weighing the million questions that have to be running through her head. "Coffee?" I laugh a little. She's not good with mornings.
"Already made. Come to the kitchen with me?" She nods, but I have to pull her out of the bed.
She hops up on to the island and sits Indian style, watching me fill her coffee cup. I still remember how she likes it. At least, I think I do. She smiles when she takes a sip, so I count that as a win.
"Are you playing? Writing?"
"A little. I can't just not play, but I haven't been performing, obviously. I'm dying to do an album again. I don't know how I'll ever have time."
"Please don't stop, Lindsey." She looks a little sad.
"I won't. The kids will get bigger. It'll be easier in a couple years."
"So you ran away to San Jose and became a single suburban dad."
"Well, one who happens to be a rock star sometimes, but yes. That's about the size of it."
"You're an amazing father."
"I love my kids."
"I'm sorry about the way things went. I should have been more supportive. I really wanted to be happy for you."
"I'm sorry, too. I didn't even think about how much it probably hurt you. And I'll never forgive myself for leaving you the way I left you."
"It was almost 10 years ago. It's all in the past."
"So, we're okay?"
"We're okay," she assures me, reaching out her hand for me. I take it and she pulls me closer to her. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you. So much," I admit, burying the face in the curve of her neck. She leans her head back, her hands tangled in my hair.
"Have you... Are you seeing anyone?"
"When would I have time to see anyone? I don't see anyone but my kids and their friends and sometimes their parents or my neighbors."
"That sounds lonely," she says, her arms circling my waist now. She frowns a little as she meets my eyes.
"Sometimes." That's all I'm willing to admit.
She leans against my chest again, letting me hold her. "Christmas is in a couple weeks," she says.
"Yes, it is."
"Maybe you and the kids could come down? We could all stay at the big house. My whole family will be there, and some of our friends, my goddaughters... We'd love to have you." She pauses. When I don't respond right away she starts backtracking. "I mean, I know it's last minute, you probably have something going on..."
