The Complex Read Free

life either, not that she’s really been interested in one. For the last six years, her life has revolved around her son, and she’s fine with that. It rarely occurs to her to date, except when her friends try to convince her to sign up for one of the various dating websites or attempt to fix her up with one of their friends. Their Facebook profiles are full of pictures of them and their boyfriends, or, in an increasing number of cases, their husbands. Terri’s is full of pictures of Caleb. And a few of her mother. But none of her father. Her father died when she was six-years old. Terri grew up without a father.
    Just like her son is doing now.
    And that breaks her heart, and she keeps thinking maybe she should date again, that maybe she should begin the application process for, let’s face it, a father for her son. Deep down inside, she knows that’s what it would be. She can’t imagine loving someone else the way she loves Caleb. She can’t fathom somebody else sharing space in their lives, or a place in her heart. She doesn’t need a man in her life, but she worries that her little boy just might. Terri knows all too well how hard it was for her, growing up without a father. She has to assume it’s even more difficult for a boy.
    Terri frowns, wondering what some of her feminist friends from college would make of her musings. Then she decides that she really doesn’t care. Yes, she’s doing a fine job of raising Caleb, and no, he doesn’t need a father figure in his life, but—arguments about gender politics, patriarchy, and sexism aside—it would be nice if he had one anyway.
    Randy would fit the bill. They’ve been friends—best friends—for years, but it’s no secret that he wants more from their relationship. She’s helped him through two break-ups with two serious girlfriends, and he’s helped her by listening and being there for her and Caleb, and one time they even fell asleep together on the couch while watching a movie, but they’ve never gone beyond that. She loves Randy, the way one loves a dear, dear friend, but her feelings for him are just that—friendship. She’s told him many times that there’s no chance of a romantic entanglement, no possibility of being friends with ‘benefits.’ Randy swears that he understands and is okay with it, but sometimes, Terri wonders if that’s really true. Sometimes, she feels guilty, feels that maybe she’s leading him on. He promises her that she’s not, that he’s just not into dating anyone right now, and enjoys just hanging out with her and Caleb. But Terri is concerned that, in doing so, he might miss his chance at something more with someone else.
    She also wonders sometimes how she’d feel if he got that chance with someone else.
    “You okay?” Randy asks, tromping down the ramp with another armload of boxes.
    Terri smiles. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I got distracted for a moment.”
    Shrugging, Randy returns the smile. “No worries. You look beat. We’ve been at this all day. Why don’t you take a break?”
    “No.” Terri shakes her head. “I want to get this finished. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do tonight than help me move.”
    “I can’t think of any.”
    His smile grows broader. He takes the last few steps down the ramp, and stumbles. The top box on the stack he’s carrying falls onto the ramp with a loud clang.
    “Shit! I’m sorry, Terri.”
    “It’s okay,” she assures him. “It’s full of Christmas decorations from my Aunt Hildy. I never put them up because they’re too gaudy. If you broke them, you’ll have done me a favor.”
    Randy performs a mock bow, and almost drops the rest of the boxes. He catches his balance, and they both laugh. There is a pause, as they look at each other. Terri feels a warmth of emotion in that moment. She suspects that Randy feels something, too. He starts to say something else, but then Caleb emerges from the open apartment door, and walks toward them.
    “It’s getting