I stared at him, stupefied. Of all the things that could have emerged from his lips, that was not a statement I’d considered. “What?” I asked, sounding like I had some sort of condition that made me mentally unstable.

 

He nodded. “I want you to have my house. It’s paid off. I bought it outright with cash, so there are no payments to be made. It’s Ginger’s home, and the best way I know for her to have it is to sell it to you for a dollar so it’s in your name. You can keep your house, stay in it if you want. Or you can quit work if you want and sell your house. There’s money in an account for everything you and Ginger need while I’m away.”

 

The more he talked, the harder it was to stay calm. This was making me angry. We weren’t supposed to talk about these things tonight, and we certainly weren’t supposed to be having conversations that made me think he questioned my ability to provide for Ginger in his absence. Trying to make light of it so we could move on with the rest of our night, I forced a laugh and said, “This isn’t exactly pillow talk, Dawson.”

 

He shifted his weight to the side and propped his head on his elbow, scowling at me. “I’m not trying to upset you, Mari. I just want to make this as easy as possible on everyone involved. I know you’ve had it rough at work lately, and I don’t want you to worry.”

 

“Stop, just stop.” I couldn’t listen to anything else about it. “Look, tonight is about us, and all the beautiful things we have together. Tomorrow, you get to do the same with Ginger. We’ll talk about this sort of thing after we’ve had our time to live the fantasy, okay? Don’t keep going down this path tonight. I’m begging you. Things will turn ugly, and I can’t handle that.”

 

He nodded, casting his eyes down. “I have to say one more thing,” he told me, his voice gravelly and thick with emotion. I didn’t speak, giving him the space to tell me whatever was so pertinent, even if it ruined the evening. “I go in on Tuesday.”

 

My whole body seized and not from the ecstasy of an orgasm. Fear, dread, and devastation blended into a panic that had me frozen as I stared at him. My mind tried to deny what I heard, even as the rest of me accepted it with a sinking feeling. “Tuesday.”

 

“Yes.”

 

I let the thought compute. “I guess I knew it would be soon, and you told me it would be next week. I just didn’t realize how close that was already.” I inhaled deeply and released the breath with a shudder. “Okay. Then we’ll talk about all the final details on Sunday. That gives you Monday to prepare all your personal affairs.” I stroked his hair and shored up my courage. “We can do this.”

 

He nodded but still didn’t meet my eyes. I moved my hand to his chin and tilted his face up toward me. Finally, he gave me a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, we can do this.”

 

I had to move, or I was going to fall into a pit of despair. I sat up, fighting off a flash of nausea, and realized I was actually hungry. “Come on. Let’s go pop some popcorn, make some tea, and find something chocolate. We’ll rent a movie to stream or something.”

 

As I stood and stretched, he watched me with avid interest but didn’t make a move on me. Instead, he got to his feet and said, “I’ll grab some pillows and blankets. We can camp out on the floor, surrounded by things that are terrible for us.”

 

I strode into the kitchen, completely nude, and I dug through the pantry until I found the popcorn and the raspberry tea I was craving. As an afterthought, I reached into the fridge for a couple of peaches, which sounded absolutely amazing. I had just about everything ready when Dawson joined me, pulling one of his long-sleeved shirts over my head. It came almost to my knees, but it was cozy and warm. And it smelled like him. I thought briefly that, if I did have access to his house, at least I would be able to sniff a shirt or his cologne from time to time.

 

“Peaches?” he asked.

 

I shrugged, biting into one as he collected the other bowls. “I had a sudden urge for something fresh and fruity. Found them in the crisper.” Something else hit me, and I moaned at the mere thought of how good it would taste. I opened the fridge again, searching, and found what I wanted. There was a block of pepper jack cheese on the middle shelf, and I took it out, getting a wooden board and cubing some of it to add to the spread.

 

I joined him in the living room and dropped to the floor amidst the pillows, blankets, and food, and I kissed him soundly with a smile. He’d already chosen a movie, a light romantic comedy he knew I wanted to see, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you sure you want to watch something like this? I mean, I don’t mind something with a little action or adventure, if you want. I’m not against epic battle scenes with wizards or rescues by robots who speak with foreign accents. ‘Come with me if you want to live.’” I did the best impression I could.

 

Dawson threw his head back and laughed. “You’re ridiculous. And maybe a little behind the times on the latest action movies.” Looking at me with the sparkle I’d been trying to put back in his eyes all night, he said, “I’d rather watch something that gives me a chance to look over at the beautiful woman next to me without missing an explosion scene or anything of the kind.”

 

I blushed. I couldn’t help it. No matter how many times he said it, I still couldn’t believe he thought I was beautiful. “I can get on board with that,” I told him. He hit play, and I dug into my snacks.

 

***

 

I awoke in a bed, though I knew I’d fallen asleep on the floor. I vaguely remembered that, after the movie, Dawson and I had laughed for a while, running back through our favorite parts, and then things had gotten intimate again. He’d ridden me hard and kept me out of my head for longer than I had been able to count, and I’d fallen asleep almost instantly in his arms.

 

I also knew that, at some point, the dishes had been cleared away, but I didn’t remember that, and I didn’t remember moving to the bed. I had a sneaking suspicion Dawson had something to do with that, but he wasn’t in the bed with me. Still in his oversized shirt, I crawled out from under the thick, fluffy comforter and got to my feet. I waited for the usual nausea to overwhelm me, but to my surprise, it never came. In its place was raging hunger, and I padded out of the bedroom toward the kitchen with the intent of finding something to eat.

 

I should have known Dawson would already be there, and he was just getting the pan ready to fry eggs. I could smell biscuits in the oven, and my mouth watered. I had to snap my lips tightly shut to keep from drooling. I realized he’d shredded some cheese, as well, and I was more than ready to slide a couple of hard fried eggs between two halves of a biscuit with some melted cheese.

 

“Good morning,” I said as I approached him. “I wanted to wake up beside you.”

 

He smirked at me as he leaned over to kiss me good morning. “I intended to let that happen, until you started mumbling in your sleep about food and being starved. I thought you’d forgive me if I had breakfast underway when you woke up.”

 

I winced. “Was I really talking like that?” I didn’t know if I’d ever talked in my sleep before.

 

He nodded. “Don’t worry about it. I’d already been awake for about an hour. Watching you sleep.”

 

“Is that how I got to the bed?”

 

“No, that was a few hours ago. I wasn’t going to let you sleep on the floor and wake up with your back all messed up. Besides, I prefer the bed myself. You’re just lucky I didn’t wake you up for round three when I got you there. It crossed my mind.”

 

I poured myself a cup of coffee as the machine beeped that it had finished brewing. “I would have been fine with either decision,” I told him. I was glad we hadn’t switched focus to today yet. I was all right with giving him the whole day and night with Ginger, but I wasn’t sure what I was going to do to keep myself distracted.

 

I made sure the conversation stayed light and bantered playfully, keeping both our spirits lifted, and when Dawson left to pick up Ginger, I kissed him quickly and went home to shower and prepare for a day alone. There was no saying goodbye. This wasn’t going to be the last time we saw each other, and I doubted he was any closer to being ready for the finality of it than I was.

 

Once I’d cleaned up, I went straight to the kitchen, my stomach driving me, and I made myself an enormous chicken Caesar salad with grapes on the side and a huge glass of lemonade. I devoured it and felt like I could fly, so I headed to the farmer’s market, deciding it was time to stock up for Georgie’s visit and Christmas dinner. I realized this would probably be the last time I went alone, having Ginger with me from now on. I looked forward to it, but I enjoyed the last of my solitude for the afternoon, perusing everything in the market and taking my time.

 

I saw one of my neighbors a few feet away, but she didn’t see me, and I ignored her. If I wasn’t good enough for her or the rest of them because I chose a lifestyle that was common in this day and age, then they weren’t good enough for me with their close-mindedness. That was how I would look at it from now on. I didn’t have time to worry what anyone thought. There were only two opinions that mattered to me – Ginger’s and Dawson’s. As long as the two of them were happy with me, I was content.

 

I smartly brought heavy cloth bags with handles, and it made carrying my purchases back to the car far easier. I hummed to myself and, as I filled the trunk with my spoils, I picked several grapes off the vines and stole an apple from the bag. I cranked the volume on the radio on the way home, singing along with the songs I knew so well, and, as I pulled into my driveway, I was shocked to see Ginger come running out of the house next door to greet me.

 

She threw her arms around my legs in a big hug, and I bent at the waist to hug her back. “Hi, Mommy! We’ve been waiting for you!”

 

I was a bit confused, and I looked up to see Dawson striding toward us with a cocky swagger and a salacious grin that played over his lips until he finally reached us. He replaced it with a welcoming smile that was more appropriate in front of a five year old and stood three feet away just watching.

 

“Waiting for me for what?” I asked, my tone directed at Ginger but the question more for Dawson.

 

“For dinner, silly,” she told me, as if I should have known that already.

 

Dawson cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “Ginger and I had a discussion earlier about the fact that I had to go on a very long trip, and I wouldn’t be able to visit for a while. She decided that we should all have dinner together before I leave.”

 

“We’re a family, right, Mommy?” she asked, tugging at my hand and, ultimately, my heartstrings. “Daddy said today is my day, and I want our family to be together on my day. So we’re going to have dinner together, and you can both tuck me in to bed tonight.”

 

I heard what she didn’t know to say – that she wanted her last memory of being with Dawson to be of the perfect happy family. Dinner, kisses from two parents. It made my throat raw just thinking of the sweet, selfless idea that was born from what Ginger probably thought was a selfish desire. But her request was a gift to me, and if I read the expression on Dawson’s face right, it was for him, as well.

 

“Well, how could I say no to that?” I laughed. “Why don’t you help me get all the things from the market into the house, and then we’ll decide what we’re going to have for dinner?”

 

Dawson gathered all the bags, not leaving anything for me, and handed the bread to Ginger to carry inside. She very purposefully reached up and tossed the bread on the counter. “Thank you, sweetheart,” I told her, eyeing the loaf and considering smearing some peanut butter on a slice and stuffing it in my mouth. I hoped my appetite would even out, considering that, since I’d left the nausea behind, I’d been plagued by starvation. If I kept up at this rate, I’d gain fifty or sixty pounds before Dawson was released, and that was unacceptable.

 

As I started putting away the fruits and vegetables, Ginger kept trying to convince us to bring this or that for a salad or side dish. Eventually, Dawson stepped in and told her, “I think we have everything we need at our house, baby. Unless there’s something specific Mari wants to bring.” He raised an eyebrow at me in question, and I had to ignore my stomach as it urged me to pack a bag full of snacks to munch while dinner was cooking.

 

“No, I don’t have any special requests.” With that said, we trekked over to Dawson’s house, Ginger chattering the whole way about different ideas for dinner that ranged from cheeseburgers and tater tots to pancakes and sausage. By the time we made it to their kitchen, I was feeling sick with hunger, and I didn’t care what we ate, as long as it could be ready fast.

 

“I have an idea,” I said, clapping my hands, and four eyes fixed on me. “I think we should make it quick and easy like a real family dinner so we spend less time cooking and more time enjoying.”

 

“What did you have in mind?” Dawson asked, obviously relieved that someone had managed to stop the child. He was already on board.

 

“I don’t know. Hot dogs. With chili and cheese and relish. Open a bag of chips to go with it. And maybe ice cream sundaes for dessert.” It sounded delicious to me, and nothing about it took more than ten minutes to prepare. It was the perfect way to disguise my insane appetite and my inability to wait for something else that took longer.

 

“Perfect!” Dawson announced.

 

Ginger hesitated for a moment, like she had to think very hard about something. “Do we have ketchup and mayonnaise and mustard?”

 

“Of course we do, baby,” Dawson said, giving me an exasperated look. I covered my mouth to hide a snicker. “In fact, why don’t you help Mari get all those things out while I grate cheese and cook the dogs and chili?” Something told me he was pretty hungry, too, and he was too edgy to deal with Ginger’s need to control the situation.

 

Any other day, I might have been fine letting her go on planning for hours. But two things drove me to the conclusion I’d rendered for us. One was, of course, starvation, and the other was limited time. I didn’t want to spend the last few hours of our time together as a family going over every possible three-course meal arrangement we could have for dinner and then coming up with reasons to eliminate them one by one.

 

It literally took fifteen minutes from the decision being made to complete the preparation and have it served on the table. I entertained the conversations as they came about, whether serious or silly, but mostly I observed. I wanted what Ginger wanted: to lock this image into my memory. It would keep me going through the roughest times.

 

I also considered Dawson’s explanation to Ginger. It worked well. After all, he was going away, and he would be gone for a long time. At five, she didn’t need to know any other details. There would be a time in the future, when Dawson’s history was clear and she was old enough to process the truth about the Valves and everything leading up to his incarceration, that Dawson would be able to offer her full disclosure about this separation between them. And presumably that would be the time she also found out about being adopted. I certainly wasn’t going to be the one to explain that to her.

 

After dinner, Ginger went to bathe and dress for bed. Dawson helped her get clean, and I brushed the tangles out of her hair while he threatened to put them right back in, which made Ginger dissolve into giggles. By then, her eyelids were already drooping, and we took her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. I’d be doing this alone soon, and I hoped it felt just as good, even if there was a sadness from a missing piece of the puzzle.

 

As we left the room and Dawson flipped the light switch off, I sighed and wrapped my arm around his waist. As many times as I told myself every moment for the past couple of weeks that I would back off, start the healing process, I couldn’t seem to walk away from him and keep my distance as long as he was still available.

 

But I did want him to have time with Ginger, just the two of them, so I wouldn’t be spending the night and staying for breakfast. I pulled away to turn and tell him I would see him tomorrow, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. “Just a few more minutes,” he said. “Ginger’s already asleep, I’m sure, and I just want to look at you for a while.”

 

I smiled up at him, not quite ready to be alone yet. “As long as I can look back.”