Becoming

I Have An Interesting Boyfriend

It's my turn to cook dinner. With the craziness of the past seven weeks, I decided to cook something William loved but hadn't had in a long time.

He was running late home from work and school. He called saying he had to grab a quick book from the library on his way home. I told him no worries and to be safe.

I glanced over my shoulder into the living room. Dakota was still asleep in her little swing. I swear her grandparents spoil her. But my heart swelled with love at the thought.

In guess in some ways, Dakota was viewed as a huge blessing in disguise, in spite of the upbringing that Will and I both had. We all make choices, thankfully ours was received with grace.

But in some ways I wonder if my parents viewed Dakota as a godsend...Will was my godsend. Dakota's the angel that brought my dim world a lot more light.

Will and I had been friends since we were five. We drifted apart in high school until I...yeah. Then he was stuck to my side like super glue, determined to be there as a friend whenever I needed it. He annoyed me a lot during those times, but obviously something good came out of it.

I don't even know exactly how we got here. Especially considering the fact that both Will and I made vows to each other when we were eleven years old that we never EVER be more than friends, because we didn't want things to get all weird and kissy face between us. Obviously we both broke that promise.

Will didn't let me give up on my will to live during that time. He pulled when I pushed. And he told me to quit being so stubborn and let him help me. I also called him a liar when he told me he would always have my back. Boy, was I proven wrong. I think we were almost constantly at each other's necks for the first year; we did have good times though.

The sauce in the pan jumped causing a splash to land on my arm, bringing me back to the now. I grabbed a nearby washcloth and quickly wiped it off, then went back to stirring the sauce. I turned it on low as I grabbed the deep dish pan from the cupboard.

I had just finished putting the whole casserole in the oven when I heard Dakota start fussing as she decided whether or not she wanted to just continue fussing as hunger pulled her out of her dream or if she was going to just go into a full blown newborn wail. And that dang adorable little lip quiver when she cried.

I heard the door open and a "Um, no you don't. Not on my watch." In a baby talk voice.

I walked out into the living room and William already had her in his arms as he rocked her back and forth. Okay, maybe she was spoiled a bit more by her father than her grandparents.

"You know, it's healthy for her to cry a little bit before we pick her up." I said smiling.

"It goes completely against my instincts to let her cry though. Like I automatically have to pick her up."

"If you don't watch it, you are going to be buying her a pony when she's two."

William ignored me as he continued to rock our daughter. Dakota started fussing again. William looked like he didn't quite want to hand her over quite yet.

"I'll go fix you a bottle to feed her." I walked over and planted a kiss on his cheek before heading back into the kitchen.

I grabbed my breast milk out of the freezer, put a cup of water in the microwave to heat up, and grabbed one of the bottles out of the cupboard. I placed the frozen milk bag in the water, hoping and praying that it would thaw fast.

Within about eight minutes, with appropriate warmed bottle in hand, I walked out to the living room. Dakota was really letting it out now as William tried to soothe her. I handed the bottle to William, who, instead of giving it to Dakota right away, tested the warmth of the milk by squirting a bit onto his arm. I gave him a weird look.

"You don't trust me?"

He laughed. "No, just a habit."

"Trust me, I tested it."

He placed the bottle carefully in Dakota's mouth as soon as he got her to calm down a little so she wasn't so upset that she would choke on the milk.

He walked over to the couch and sat down, completely fixed on watching her small face.

I was going to join them until I realized I forgot to set a timer on the food in the oven!

And let this be the reminder that I need timers to set timers. Or we might be eating something representing charcoal. In my defense, William was the one who taught me how to cook.

After reasoning with myself for about five minutes on how long the casserole had already baked for, I set the timer for what I hope wasn't charcoal hour. I looked up at the ceiling and prayed a silent prayer and slightly bargaining. William just started trusting me with cooking. I'm a baker, not so much a cook. I could already see his raised eyebrow when I pulled it out of the oven with it slightly burned.

I walked back out into the living room. William had already fed Dakota half of her bottle and was in the middle of burping her, encouraging her to "Give a loud one for Daddy. Maybe a ten-pointer." Yeah, still don't know exactly how I got to this point in my life.

I walked over to the couch and sat down next to him. I would never tell him, but it honestly made him look a lot less intimidating seeing him so gentle and caring with Dakota. Not that I was entirely intimidated by Will, but I do have my moments. Especially when it comes to comparing how well I have my life put together compared to him.

He looked over at me and winked, seemingly completely comfortable with what he was doing. Dakota's only a little over a month and a half old and he's taking it like he has years of practice.

"So, how are you doing?"

"Fine. Just tired." Right now, I'm resisting leaning my head against his shoulder.

"First week back hard?" William went back to feeding Dakota her bottle.

"Yeah. Thankfully it's just a florist job, so I can at least give my creative side an outlet. And my boss is an elderly lady who dotes on me all day, so I really don't know if I'm actually going to work to get paid or get spoiled by her."

"Same lovely lady who made us meals for the first two weeks."

"Yep, that's her. Her and her daughters made those lovely meals."

"Promise me something." Did I just catch a hint of mischief in his eye?

"What? I'm not going to promise until I know what, why, and whether or not I morally agree with it." And there I go leaning my head against his shoulder.

"Don't ever quit. I would hate to not have a good meal like that ever again."

Yep, totally caught a hint of something in his eye. "Me either. Out of us both, you definitely have the better hand at the cooking part."

"Good, something we can agree on." He looked at me. I know that look.

"I'm not really in the joking mood..."

"I can tell. Just trying to get you to smile a little."

Thinking, I brushed my dark hair away from my face with my left hand, then subconsciously gliding my hand down towards my scar and letting it rest there.

"Hey. You've come a long way since then."

I looked up at Will and saw the understanding in his eyes. He knew exactly what I was thinking.