I find Kenzi in the small waiting area on the third floor. It’s an empty sea of chairs this late at night. She’s sitting in the middle of a row, casually making her way through a Kit Kat bar.
Vending machine candy has always been her go-to stress snack.
She’s staring off into space, dissociating. I don’t blame her. It’s been a long day for all of us.
I step over and sit beside her. “Hey. How’s he doing?”
“The dialysis wiped him out. He’s sleeping it off now, so I figured I’d wait out here.”
“Sleep is good. He needs it. I brought the goods.” I set the bags down at my feet. I touch each of them and recite, “Overnight clothes, daytime clothes, a couple of books, notebooks, pens, laptop, chargers…should be enough to keep him occupied for a while.”
“You’re a saint,” Kenzi says as she looks through one of the bags. “Thank you. Seriously.”
“Of course,” I tell her. I do feel obligated to remind her, “Visiting hours are almost up.”
“Well, tough shit. If Otto’s spending the night here, so am I.”
“Thought you’d say that.” I pick up one of the bags and nudge it over to her. “Which is why this bag is yours.”
“Smart man. You deserve a reward. Chocolate?” She offers me part of her chocolate bar.
I decline with a shake of my head. “Looks like you’ve got enough of it for the both of us.”
I catch her bottom lip with my thumb and forefinger, wiping off a chocolate smear. I put my thumb to my mouth to lick it clean.
She grins at that.
It’s a look that usually makes my blood start rushing south. Instead, I feel a small pinch of guilt in my gut. I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “I—uh. There’s something we have to talk about. Not a big deal. It doesn’t have to be now, but—”
Those green eyes size me up. “Jason. Just spit it out.”
“Alright. Naomi tried to kiss me.”
Kenzi blinks at me. Her mouth forms an O shape.
I feel a burning heat climb my neck and rise in my cheeks. “Obviously, I nipped it in the…well. I stopped it, is what I mean—”
And then Kenzi does something unexpected. She laughs.
Not like sweet giggles, either. She is howling with laughter.
“Is this funny to you?” I ask.
“Nu-uh! No! Very serious.” She tries to pull a straight face. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”
“Okay…so she was in my car, and—”
Kenzi’s bottom lip quivers. Her composure doesn’t last for long. She clutches her stomach and explodes with another burst of laughter. There are tears streaming down her cheeks now.
The sharp slap of quickly approaching feet gets me to look up from Kenzi. Donovan comes down the hall and stands in front of us. He looks at Kenzi, then at me, then Kenzi again.
“I thought someone was coding out here,” he says. “What’s so funny?”
“Honestly…I’m not sure,” I say.
I genuinely don’t know what to make of Kenzi’s laughing fit.
Donovan has his arms folded. His finger taps impatiently against his bicep.
I try not to think about how, only hours ago, those long fingers were grabbing at me, digging into my back.
I fiddle with my wedding rings, twisting them around and around.
Kenzi wheezes. She wipes the laughter-tears away from her face and manages to get out, “Otto’s girlfriend kissed Jason.”
Donovan’s expression hardens. There are daggers in his eyes when he says, “Where is she—?”
“No, no, no,” Kenzi reasons with him, coming down from her laugh-attack. She winds her fingers in his hand and urges him closer. “We’re not doing that. Come. Sit.”
Donovan relents and sits. He takes the chair beside Kenzi.
Kenzi takes Donovan’s hand in hers and then mine so she’s the conduit between us.
“We’re going to do an exercise,” she says. “Meditation. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Donovan says.
“Good. Close your eyes. Inhale with me. Inhale the word: What.”
The three of us take in a deep inhale. “What.”
“Hold it,” Kenzi continues. “And now exhale with these words: The fuck.”
We inhale deeply. Hold. Exhale. “What…the fuck?”
“Feels better, doesn’t it?”
I can’t help but smile. “Yeah, actually.”
For a minute, the three of us just sit there. Eyes closed. Holding hands.
“We’re good parents,” Kenzi murmurs suddenly. “Right?”
I open my eyes. Kenzi’s eyes are still closed, her head tilted back. Donovan’s are open, however. He looks at me when he says, “We’re the best.”
Then he squeezes her hand a little tighter. I can feel it, as though his palm is against mine.
I lace my fingers between Kenzi’s. She smiles.
This feels right. The three of us.
The way it should be.
