Hunting Pixies

Hunting Pixies, Pt. 14

It's 9:30 when Margaret and I exit the restaurant into the Florida autumn night. Gainesville gets a bit colder than the points south where I have lived most of the last few decades, so it's a bit brisk for Florida, in the low 60s probably, it might even hit the 50s overnight. Margaret is completely unbothered by it, but does not hesitate to snuggle into me when I pull her in closer as we walk across the promenade between the restaurant and the other shops.

"Macaroons or ice cream first?" I ask, knowing it won't be an either-or question for her. I'm not sure where she puts it, but her sweet tooth seems as sharp as mine. I know our athletic activities in bed this week have been helping me burn some of the indulgent calories, but suspect I'll need to tighten things up in the week to come.

Margaret must be having similar thoughts as she gives my middle a little extra squeeze, and says, "Macaroons first! I'm so glad you aren't completely obsessed with calorie counting, life is a lot more fun when there are sweet treats involved, but I'm going to have to start running again when I get home, and you've missed a lot of yoga sessions this week."

I raise an eyebrow at her, and assume an offended tone, "Are you implying I'm fat, Margaret?"

She giggles, "No, pleasantly soft, and a little hairy, like a..." she pauses for a moment, trying to recall something, "...hideous gorilla? That was it, right?"

I laugh, "It was," I'm pleased that Margaret remembers the story I told her about my daughter's comment to me when she was a toddler. "Kids are so much fun at that age, thank you for letting me eavesdrop on your goodnight routine tonight, your oldest seems very mature, and your little ones sound adorable, AND you've been hiding a beautiful singing voice."

Margaret's cheeks color deeply, and she gives me a shy smile. "Thank you, they really are great, and they really are my everything, and always have been. All the off years I had with David were worth it to have them." I nod in full agreement and she smiles, knowing full well I can relate to her on this.

"It's been really hard for me having to split their time with him, and I know that's selfish. But this week has felt a lot easier. Mostly because you've made it so much fun, but also because David seems to be coming into his own a lot more with them? Every night, Meagan has told me something good he's done with them or for them. I think they've all had a really good week. It's sad I wasn't part of it, but I'm happy for them?"

"I can't imagine not being with them every day. Is that what David wanted to talk about?" I ask, before thinking it probably isn't my place. We've arrived at Le Macaron, Florida's chain answer to the Parisian patisserie. "Do you want to go in, or do you want to keep chatting first? It looks like there are some open tables here in the plaza, and they've even got space heaters out already."

"Hmm, let's get the macaroons, and we can nibble a few out here and talk, and then get ice cream?"

"Sounds like a good plan," I say as I open the door and hold it for Margaret and she gives me a smile and enter first.

Margaret's eyes light up as she sees the array of flavors available, shining like a rainbow in polished glass cases. "Can we get a dozen?" She asks with doe eyes. "That way we can split some for the ride home tomorrow?" I nod and smile. "Goody!"

We proceed to the counter, and Margaret takes charge of the selection process, soliciting my opinion on a few options until "our" box is full. We decline the offer of coffee, but do get a water to split. I pay, but she holds the bag as we exit, me holding the door for her once again. I can't help but laugh.

"What's funny?" She asks.

"A memory. I took the kids to one of these for the first time when they were really young. Reid may have been like ten at most, so Sophie would have been five and Aiden seven and a half. They made all their selections as a team, but when we went to exit, Reid wanted to carry them out, and made it abundantly clear, declaring to them 'I HOLD THE BAG.' The other two still tease him about it to this day."

Margaret laughs, "it's those little things, those precious small moments we share with them that mean so much, isn't it?"

"Absolutely," I agree, "that's what builds relationships." I steer us to an open table that has some separation from some of the others, but still has a heater fairly close. I pull a chair out for Margaret to sit.

"My sweet, gentlemanly troll," she purrs, "do you always do this, or are you on your best behavior because of all my talk about piggish men tonight?"

"I'm a little more out of practice than I would like to admit," I confess. Margaret pulls me in for a quick kiss before she sits.

"That's okay, I wouldn't think less of you if you forgot the little courtesies, but will say, they do make me think more of you, for future reference?"

"Duly noted," I chuckle as I take a seat next to her and she opens the box of sweet pastries. We each select one and she closes it and puts it back in the bag. We take a bite from our own, then exchange them when we're half finished, agreeing they're very good, washing them down with a little water. Margaret is humming softly as she enjoys hers, and her obvious pleasure makes me smile.

"So back to my talk with David," Margaret says as we've finished our treat. I had forgotten for a moment we were talking about their conversation, so I'm glad I haven't forced her to tell me more than she was comfortable with, she could have easily changed the subject and I would not have noticed.

She continues, "He said that he had something he really needs to tell me, but didn't want to do it on the phone. Something he thinks will explain how we ended up where we are a little more? He sounded like he'd had a little too much to drink tonight, which I get, because being with his family is always a LOT for him." I give her a look that must suggest some concern.

"Oh, Millie's there, so that doesn't worry me for the kids because she'll always make sure they're fine. But he seemed pretty upset and emotional. I suggested we meet Monday for lunch after he has his morning consults; the kids will be back in school. I'm not really missing any 'closure' from him, but I'm willing to listen if he needs to unburden himself about something, I guess?"

"That's good; you seem to have an amicable relationship, and that's so important for the kids."

"It is, and, well, really for me, everything is about the kids. And I mentioned before I called them, I wanted to talk to you a little more about that?"

"You did, and I'm happy to talk about them; I think we should be on the same page since we want to keep seeing each other? They're always going to be a permanent part of the package we each bring to the table."

"Yes. Exactly what I want to talk about," Margaret smiles. "I really am excited to see where things can go for us, but as I've said, I'm not available for a 'conventional' relationship, which is why I have a good feeling that we can make things work, weird as that is to say." I nod, and we both laugh.

She continues, "I told you part of the reason is I'm going to be very busy going back to school. And part of the reason is that I don't 'need' to be supported, financially. But the biggest part is that I'm not ready to bring someone else into my kid's lives in any kind of 'formal' sense. And that could be the case for YEARS. I can't really explain why, but that's the way I'm wired. I am confident you are an amazing person with kids, and are a great father already, but there's just something about bringing someone from outside into that kind of role that doesn't sit right with me. It's a huge part of why I was okay with staying with David even when things weren't what I wanted in the bedroom. I just could not imagine another woman taking my place in his household with my kids. Does that make sense? I know EVERYONE gets divorced, and everyone has step kids, and step parents and all that, but it just bothers me that people are so okay with that..." Margaret is getting winded and more agitated as she proceeds, and starting to spin a little out of control as she makes her arguments, but there really is no need.

"Margaret, baby," I gently say as I take her hand, "I understand, one hundred percent. You don't need to explain yourself to me. The ONLY reason I stayed with Beth after I found out about her affair is that I absolutely could NOT imagine some random dude assuming an important place in my kids' lives. I put up with a LOT of...shit...for a long time to prevent that. People always say 'don't stay for the kids,' but fuck that. My kids are my life. Your kids are yours. I understand you. Even if I were single and completely available for a conventional relationship with you, I would never want to overstep your comfort level with respect to them."

Margaret is nodding along with me and smiling, no doubt noting that my passion at least equals hers on this sensitive topic. She pulls me in for a kiss when I've stepped off my proverbial soap box. "Thank you," she sighs, "I'm so glad we see eye to eye on this. I knew we would, but it feels really great to confirm it,"

Margaret thinks a moment and says, "You stayed with Beth, and your kids are almost all grown now, so you're almost out of the woods with your fears of someone else coming into their lives. I've got a long way to go. I can control whether I bring someone new into their lives, but I can't really control what David does."

"So he hasn't been dating anyone?"

"Not that Meagan has mentioned, and Meagan will be sure to mention it as soon as it happens, she's my little spy," Margaret laughs.

"You mentioned a 'Millie' being there with the kids?"

Margaret's expression becomes ambiguous. "Millie is the kids' live-in nanny. I didn't really want one, but David insisted when the twins were born. I guess that's been good for everyone, because he kept her on after the divorce, and the kids have always loved her. And I love her with them, she has been a good constant for them."

"You don't think it's possible that she and David..."

Margaret laughs until she almost cries. "Oh no, baby, Millie is five feet nothing and almost five feet around, and probably about 62? So NOT someone that would be on David's dance card."

I laugh. "Yeah, I suppose not, although she's only got a few years on me, so..."

"Mmm, but I have a kink for sweet old trolls. I'm not sure David has any kinks," Margaret giggles, then thinks for a moment. "Does it bother you at all? Us talking about David? And about Beth?"

"No, not at all. I don't think either of us is being disrespectful toward either of them. That would bother me. You and David are bound by your kids, and always will be, and you're still probably processing what you had with him?" Margaret nods to confirm.

Margaret almost takes the next words from me, "and with Beth, it would probably be weird for us to not to talk about her? Her life is still intertwined with yours, and will be, so it would be hard to tiptoe around her. She's part of you, so she's part of this, and will be going forward?"

I nod in fully agreement, "yes, she's not an active participant, but will be an equal one in many ways? Does that bother you at all?"

Margaret's expression is unreadable, and she seems to choose her next words with care. "It doesn't 'bother' me. I'll admit, a part of me doesn't fully understand why you are so loyal to her, but another part is glad that you are? But your love for her seems very real. Is it weird that I feel jealous of what you two have together, but also rooting for it to keep working?"

I think about it a bit. "Not weird, or not weirder than all of this," I laugh. "I think if Beth has been sincere in supporting me finding someone like you to help fill the voids she leaves; my 'pixie,' if you will, then she should probably feel the same way about you and us?"

"Mmm. This IS all weird, and complicated, for sure," Margaret sighs. "But I'm rooting for all of us. I want this to work out. Would it be weird or awkward to tell you that I already have very strong feelings for you, Steve?"

"Only if I didn't already share them, Margaret." We lean in, she seems tentative about meeting my eyes, I tilt her chin with my hand and our gazes meet, smiles extending to them, and we meet in a soft kiss, our gaze extending as we part.

"The macaroons are really good, but I believe I was also promised ice cream?" Margaret flutters her eyes and smiles into mine, pivoting the subject.

"As you wish, my sweet pixie, as you wish." I pull Margaret up by her hand, and we walk the few doors down to the Kilwin's ice cream shop on the promenade. I order a scoop of pumpkin pie ice cream in a cup, and Margaret orders a scoop of cappuccino chip in a waffle cone. I pay, and we decide to go back outside to our previous spot. Only in Florida can you eat ice cream outside on a late November night.

"No sprinkles, baby?" I tease.

"Nope, I'm being all sophisticated tonight, what with the fancy French cookies, 'encrusted mahi,' and cleverly named mocktail..." Margaret affects a snobby accent and demeanor that is at odds with the dollop of ice cream that ended up on the tip of her nose with her first lick.

I laugh. "Are you sure about that?" I make a point of staring at the tip of her nose and laugh some more as she doesn't take the hint.

"What's so funny?"

I affect my very best Hermione Granger impression, "You've got ice cream on your nose, by the way. Did you know? Just there..." I say and point to the tip of my nose, laughing until Margaret joins me.

"That's a very good Hermione impression, I'm impressed," she says, and then attempts to extend her tongue to reach it but falls quite a bit short, giggling. "You get it," she offers. I lean forward and swipe it off with just the tip of my tongue, and she pulls me in for a kiss to steal the taste away from me with her tongue. "Yummy," she grins and returns to her cone.

"So we've had a lot of pretty deep conversations for our casual but not so casual relationship tonight. Can we back up and cover some fun first date topics?" Margaret asks.

"Of course. What did you have in mind?"

"Bragging about our kids? We broke the ice and set our ground rules around the topic, and I think we've actually now mentioned all of their names at least once. How about we share some pictures and a little bit about each one?"

"Sounds good. Want me to start?" Margaret nods. "Okay. I'll go oldest to youngest?" I open my phone and find a gallery that features pictures of mostly Reid and hand it to Margaret, who starts scrolling through the many pictures, smiling as she does, stopping occasionally to lick her cone, which I find quite distracting. When she notices, she makes a bigger show of it. Tease.

"So this is Reid, my oldest. He just turned 21 and is at USF over in Tampa, still majoring in Finance, although I've tried to talk him into something that means more to him. He'll probably end up in law school anyway. He's a little bit of an enigma to us. He's a sweet guy and has been very into his faith, which is something he shares really only with my mom."

"Wow, he's a really big guy," Margaret observes as she's moved from his younger pictures to more current ones. "How tall is he? He has to be over six feet?"

"I think he's probably an inch or two taller than six. Height skipped a generation. My dad is six feet three, but Mom is only five feet two, so...but I am just about the shortest in the family now." I laugh.

"Does he, or did he, play football? He's got the build of a lineman, for sure."

"A little bit at the peewee level, but he didn't enjoy it very much. The high school coaches would have loved him for their O-LIne, but he had zero interest, or no more interest than he showed when he tried musical theater..." Margaret raises an eyebrow but doesn't ask anything.

I answer the question that may be on her mind anyway, "we've always kind of suspected he may be gay, he's hinted around about it with me and his sister, but he's never confirmed it. He's never dated, that we know of, but neither did I, so that doesn't mean anything. It doesn't matter even a tiny bit to us one way or another as long as he's happy, but he doesn't always seem to be..."

"Oh, how's that?" Margaret asks with a genuine seeming sense of concern.

"His weight makes me think he isn't as happy as he should be, and is compensating. I think he's inherited a bit of my addictive personality and eats to comfort himself like I used to drink to do the same..."

Margaret nods. "It's so common now, and so hard for those that are inclined to weight gain to keep it off..."

"It is, and he's struggled with his since adolescence. We all have. The only major conflicts Beth and I have had in recent years are centered around his weight and how we respond to it. She wants to 'fix him' and make it go away. I want to support him, but I know we can't be the ones to make it go away. He has to find it in himself. There isn't a right or wrong approach, and she comes from a place of love and best intentions, but I see the wedge it drives in their relationship..."

Margaret reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. I continue, "I'm confident he'll find the right motivation at some point, and we'll both continue to support him as he does, so that's Reid, my most complex kid, for sure."

Margaret gives me my phone back and opens hers to find a gallery and hands it to me. "I'll go in opposite order, youngest to oldest. And by about one minute, that makes Jack my youngest. He is just my sweet little lovey boy that I could eat up, and he always has been. He LOVES physical touch. The more the better. He's funny, and smart, and intensely loyal..."

"Sounds like some other 'youngest' kids I know," I say, laughing at one of his goofier pictures.

"Mmm, it describes me pretty well, and you're the youngest, I'm guessing? I think you mentioned two brothers?"

"Yes, we're only a little more than a year apart each, and I'm the youngest."

"Oy! Your poor mom must have had her hands full for a long time when you guys were really young."

"She did, for sure. Dad wasn't much help, and that wasn't just because it was the early 70s. He was always there, but never really engaged."

"And she didn't really give you the kind of love or attention you needed, did she, Steve?"

"No, she didn't, how did you know?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I did a lot of psych rotations, and spent some time working in addiction recovery units when I first started in nursing. From what you've said about your relationships and your drinking and everything, I'm guessing you've got some issues around 'attachment,' and those are often rooted in childhood environments."

"Yeah, that sounds right. I've seen therapists as part of trying to save my first marriage, and then in rebuilding the relationship with Beth. Both were more behavioral based than analytical, so they didn't focus on upbringing, but I did a lot of self-help reading and research around those same times. Things like the 'Love Languages' programs, and 'No More Mr. Nice Guy?'"

"It's kind of treated as non-science, but the Love Languages concepts make a lot of sense, or at least they can't hurt?" Margaret suggests, "like with Jacky, I know he NEEDS a lot of physical affection, he thrives on it, so I try my best to provide it. And whether it's scientifically proven or not, it can't hurt, right?"

"Yeah, that's the way I've looked at it. I'm sure my parents did the best they could with what they had to work with at the time, and I just don't think they had much bandwidth to give each of us, they were fighting their own demons and dealing with their own problems. All I can do is try my best to give each of my kids the attention they need?"