Diplomacy

“It’s okay, Lucas, we have a lot to talk about.”

    JACK was in the tiny kitchen of Lucas’s one bedroom apartment, opening cabinets and drawers, trying to decide what to make them for dinner. He smiled at the fact that it was actually a fairly functional kitchen, with lots of utensils, most of them fairly new, but used. Lucas apparently did some actual cooking from time to time.
    When they walked in, he had scanned the living room and found no evidence of anyone else living there. It was a little disorganized, with lots of toys lying around. There were a few pictures stuck to the fridge, mostly of AnnElise, some of them also of Lucas, but no mother. He was fairly certain Lucas lived alone with his daughter.
    He could hear them in the bathroom, chatting away. AnnElise used mostly single words, but she was clearly very good at making sure she was understood.
    A few moments later, she burst into the kitchen, dressed only in a diaper and laughing loudly, closely followed by Lucas chasing her with a D i p l o m a c y | 163

    towel. “Come here, you little monster, we need to dry those curls of yours some more.” When she spotted Jack in ‘her’ kitchen she froze, eyeing him suspiciously.
    This gave Lucas the chance to grab her and lift her up. “Are you ready for a sandwich?”
    “Yes, Daddy!”
    “Can Jack make you a sandwich?”
    She looked at Jack and clearly decided to give him a chance when a smile broke on her face.
    “What do you want on your sandwich, honey?” Jack asked, keeping his distance, but liking the fact the little girl was warming up to him.
    “Baby meat, p’ease,” she answered decidedly.
    “Baby meat?” Jack asked Lucas questioningly.
    “Baloney,” Lucas mouthed, making both men snigger.
    Jack made her a sandwich with the sliced pink meat and sat down next to Lucas, who held AnnElise on his lap as she ate her sandwich with much gusto. He was amused to see her trying to share her crusts with Lucas and felt himself warm to this picture of domestic happiness. Was it too soon to hope that maybe he could be part of this one day? He knew he still loved Lucas. He’d never doubted that, but seeing the man again made it all the more clear to him. Could he hope for Lucas to love him back?
    Would AnnElise accept him in her father’s life?
    He woke from his daydream when he heard Lucas tell AnnElise it was time for bed. “Will you give Jack a goodnight kiss?”
    “‘Ack?” She asked.
    Lucas chuckled, “Yes, Jack.”
    She wiggled herself off Lucas’s lap and walked over to the American. “Nigh’ nigh’ ‘Ack” She stretched up, puckering her lips and Jack couldn’t help but laugh. He received a big girl kiss on his lips.
    “Night night, AnnElise.”

    WHEN Lucas came back to the kitchen about fifteen minutes later, Jack was dishing out the steaming Fettuccini Alfredo.

    164 | Z a h r a O w e n s

    “Hope you’re hungry? I haven’t cooked for two in ages.” Lucas rubbed his thighs and sat down. “Starving, actually. This is a rare treat.”
    It felt weird, but a good kind of weird, to sit here in the small kitchen eating together. Their relationship had always been about stealing time together and spending it in hotel rooms or Jack coming over to Lucas’s apartment for a quick shag after work. They had never been this…
    domestic.
    Lucas found himself looking at Jack as the American explained about the interview he’d had that afternoon and why he wanted to work at the U.N. Jack tried to find the right words and succeeded as usual, but in his effort to do so, focusing on an invisible spot on the table, not on Lucas.
    And Lucas found himself falling in love all over again. Could he hope the feelings Jack had for him back then were still there? Jack had come to his apartment with him, but perhaps he was just lonely, new to another different city and eager to connect with an old friend again. He didn’t know whether he could stand being just an old friend to Jack. On the other hand, seeing his former lover with a two year old hadn’t seemed to faze Jack either.
    “This was really delicious.” Lucas pushed his empty plate away and rubbed his stomach.
    Jack smiled, clearing the last strands of pasta from his own plate as well. “It was nice to be able to cook for someone again.” So he was lonely.
    Jack started clearing the table, but Lucas stopped him. “Hey, you cooked, you don’t have to do the dishes too! We can just put them in the sink and I’ll do them in the