“If that’s what you think of when you think ‘kids’, it’s amazing to me that you want them.” He smiled though, and didn’t seem especially daunted himself. It was one of those parts of his life that at one point he hadn’t believed he would ever have a chance at, and that made every second of it appealing, just as thinking he had lost her made him appreciate even the awkward moments between them. Dark as the sentiment seemed, pain meant you were still alive, and that translated to other parts of life as well. If they were fighting, it was because they were both still trying. If he could hurt her, it was because she loved him, and the reverse was true as well. So it was a facet of his optimism that he embraced every second with appreciation.
The hair had been messier back then. When she met him in Cazenovia, he had been prone to keeping it short and in order. Now, for her sake more than anything, it was allowed enough length to be gripped and he stayed away from anything that would keep her hands from it. As a child, it was the downright mess she must have expected.
He didn’t help her any when they arrived, though he saw the dilemma. Sometimes it was more fun to let her argue with herself for a while. He parked the car and unbuckled his safety belt, which he was quite diligent about wearing for her peace of mind. They were in front of a charming little bistro, as promised. “This is it. I know Italian is more my thing that yours, but they’re supposed to be really good, and I figured I could bribe you into loving it with the fancy coffees and the dessert menu.”