by Ali Parker
Leslie’s face fell. “I didn’t,” she said. “Not really anyway.”
“Les—”
“Enough about me.” She waved her hands. “I want to hear more about your trip.”
“There’s not really much else to tell,” I said. “We had a great time. It was incredible and romantic, and honestly, I didn’t want to come home.”
She smiled. “I don’t blame you.”
We lazed on Leslie’s couch for a while that morning, just talking about Seattle and all the trouble Leslie had gotten herself into while I was away. I was starting to feel happy about being home when Leslie asked me the one question that shot my good mood straight to shit.
“So,” she said. “Are you going to talk to her? Now that you’re back?”
My stomach tightened. I glared at Leslie, pissed off that she would even mention our mother in my presence.
“Have you talked to her?” I asked.
“Briefly.” Leslie glowered. “It didn’t go well.”
“Yeah.”
We glared off in different directions, each with our own reasons to hate our mother. But even as we stewed in our own misery, I knew we’d never be able to stay mad forever. She was our mom, and despite everything, a part of me missed her.
“It’ll take a long time before I’m ready to see her,” I finally said. “Ryan was angry with her before, but now that he and I are good, he thinks I should let her back in.”
“Seriously?”
“Not trust her,” I said quickly. “Just be in her life. I mean, he is right about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Leslie asked.
“We’re all she has.”
My sister’s face fell. She rolled her eyes and groaned. Neither of us wanted to admit how much it would destroy our mom to lose us both. We couldn’t do that to her after she’d already lost our father.
“We’ll have to talk to her soon,” I said. “But not yet. And definitely not today.”
Leslie slapped her hands together. “Good,” she said. “Besides, I wouldn’t have time today. I have a nail appointment in twenty minutes, and you’re coming with me.”
“My nails are fine.”
I looked down at my fingernails at the same time as Leslie. We both burst into laughter. My nails, which I’d had done for the banquet, were bitten and chipped. I’d been picking at them all week from angst and nerves. Even after Ryan flew out to meet me, I’d begun gnawing at my nails every time I thought about coming home.
“We’ll get them fixed,” Leslie said with a firm nod. “Come on, I’ll buy you coffee on the way.”
“Hazelnut cappuccino?” I asked.
“Is there anything else?”
Linking her arm with mine, Leslie led the way outside. We walked in the midsummer heat until our foreheads glistened with sweat, and my desire for Seattle increased tenfold.
I pushed it to the back of my mind and enjoyed my day with my sister. We picked up coffee and a snack before bouncing over to the nail salon for manicures and pedicures. Leslie sat beside me, babbling on about her latest hookup while I did my best to listen.
“Do you ever think about settling down, Les?”
“Sometimes.” She shrugged. “If I met the right person.”
“Do you think you will?”
She shrugged again. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“That’s not what I mean.” I sat up straighter. “I just mean—Sometimes I think about settling down with Ryan, about becoming Paisley’s stepmom, and my heart stops like I’m so scared that I can’t even move.”
Leslie kept her eyes on me while I spoke.
“I love Ryan,” I said. “And I love Paisley. They’re already my family, you know? But the thought of being a wife and a mother scares the shit out of me.”
“Has Ryan mentioned marriage?” Leslie asked with wide eyes.
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “We’ve talked about forever as a general concept, but no specifics. Not yet.”
“Hmm.”
Leslie looked away with a thoughtful expression. I turned to face her while the manicurist went to work fixing my cuticles. Waiting for Leslie to speak was like waiting for snow to melt, miserable and tedious. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What?” I snapped. “Spit it out.”
“I was just thinking,” she said slowly, “that if you’re already thinking marriage, and he’s already talking about forever, then when is he planning to quit his job?”
Leslie’s question froze my insides. It was like a sudden gush of freezing air had washed over the nail salon, forming icicles on everything in sight.
“I don’t think he’s planning on anything,” I said weakly.
“He’s not?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Les. We haven’t talked about it.”
“Well, what do you want him to do?”
Yet another question that I didn’t have an answer to. The honest answer was I wanted him to quit. I’d wanted that for a while now. But how could I admit that? Even to my sister? If I truly loved Ryan, then I loved everything about him, even his job.
“Look, I’m not telling you what to do,” Leslie said. “But I know you. Candi, you aren’t the kind of woman who would be okay with something like that. Sitting at home every night? Waiting for your husband to get home from a date with another woman? I mean, can you really imagine living that kind of life?”
“They aren’t real dates.”
“I know,” Leslie said. “Trust me, I get it.”
“Then it shouldn’t matter,” I said. “Right?”
“Real or not, they are dates.” Leslie sighed. “Clients. Jobs. Whatever you want to call them, they are women who Ryan dates.”
My eyes closed, and I tilted my head back. “He doesn’t sleep with them.”
“Does he kiss them?”
I jerked my head back and whipped around to glare at her. She had a lot of nerve to even ask that question about the man I loved, but as I looked into her eyes, I saw only concern.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I’ve never asked if kissing is part of the deal.”
“Kason kissed me.” Leslie shrugged. “And that might just be Kason. Who knows what the other Romeos do.”
Nodding, I looked away again. Just thinking about Ryan’s lips on another woman’s made my skin crawl. As much as I trusted him, I knew I’d never be able to handle it if he kissed someone else.
“Ask him to quit,” Leslie said, reading my mind.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?” Leslie demanded.
It wasn’t that simple, and no matter how much I wished I could, I could never tell Ryan how to live his life. If he wanted to be a Romeo, I had to respect that. Even if it drove me insane.
“I’ll support whatever decision he makes,” I said firmly. “It’s his life, and even though he’s sharing it with me, I can’t tell him where to work.”
“I think you should.”
Leslie’s defiance radiated off her, and I knew she meant every word she said. If it had been her, she would have demanded Ryan quit his job and never darken the steps of Romeo Rebound again. But I wasn’t Leslie.
“Then what?” I asked. “Have him resent me forever because I forced him to quit a job he loves?”
“Does he love it?” Leslie raised her eyebrows. “Because I got the impression from Kason that Ryan only took that job to provide for Paisley. I don’t think it means as much to him as you think it does.
“Wait.” I blinked. “Kason?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you still seeing him?”
Leslie looked away, but not before I saw the guilt flash in her eyes. She didn’t answer right away, but she didn’t have to. I knew her well enough to know the truth.
“We aren’t dating,” she finally said. “Not really. We’re just hanging out. It’s nothing serious, especially not since I found out about the Romeos.”
“But you like him?”
She shrugged, plastering a casual smile on her face. I didn’t buy it, and she knew it, but we both pretended it was real.
“He’s okay,” Leslie said.
“Just okay?” I pressed.
Leslie rolled her eyes. “You know nothing real can ever happen between us,” she said. “So we’re friends. That’s all.”
“And you’ve talked to him about Ryan?”
“Well, yeah.” She said like it was a given. “I had to find out if I could trust Ryan before I sent him chasing after you.”
“Yeah, about that—”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Leslie brushed her hair off her shoulder. “It was just me doing my sisterly duty.”
“I wasn’t going to thank you.” I glared.
“Well, you should.”
Leslie laughed, and I snorted. I didn’t know it at the time, but spending the day with my sister was exactly what I needed to make sense of my messy life.
A huge part of me wanted to take her advice, to march right over to Ryan’s place and demand he tell Beatrice Cantone to piss off. But I never would.
If Ryan wanted to give up his job for me, then he would. And if he didn’t—well, then I would just have to find a way to be okay with that. No matter how hard it was, I would figure it out. For Ryan.
Chapter 77
Ryan
Paisley stood on her stool beside the stove. I had one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from getting too close while we stirred the pot of homemade soup and watched the ingredients bubble.
“We haven’t made this in forever!” Paisley squealed.
I held her hand while she rotated the spoon in a wide circle. Every time a bubble formed in the liquid, she would giggle and pop it with the spoon, sending boiling hot soup spraying against the side of the pot.
“Be careful.” I laughed and pulled her back. “This stuff is hot.”
“I know!” Paisley squealed again. “I love it.”
“You’re a mess.”
Chuckling lightly, I shook my head and helped her finish the soup.
Paisley had been helping me cook since she was old enough to stand. I would poise her on my knee or on this very stool and hold her hands while we chopped vegetables or stirred pots full of sauce and vegetables.
As she got older, her interest waned, but today, she hopped up on her stool like nothing had ever changed and went to work. I loved to watch her cook with her dark hair billowing out around her face and her wild green eyes alive with joy. She looked so small standing on the stool beside the massive pot of soup that for a split second, I could have sworn she was a baby again.
“Hey,” I said. “I forgot to ask you. Is it okay if Candice comes over for dinner? She really wants to see you.”
“Duh!” Paisley clucked her tongue. “Is that even a question, Dad?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Dad?”
“What?” She blinked innocently. “My friends call their dads dad. No one says daddy anymore.”
“Oh.” I nodded knowingly. “I see.”
“Yeah,” Paisley said. “I’m starting kindergarten in a couple months, remember? I can’t do baby things anymore.”
“You’re right,” I said, fighting back laughter. “I should have known.”
Paisley nodded firmly and went back to stirring the soup. And in that short amount of time, my little baby disappeared. Just seconds before, I’d been marveling at how young she still looked, and now, the days of her calling me “Daddy” were over.
“Tell me about your week with Uncle Max,” I said. “I want to hear everything you did.”
“So much! Uncle Max took me and Annabelle to the zoo. Annabelle’s dad came with us. And she calls him ‘Dad,’ not ‘Daddy.’ Anyway, we went to the zoo and hung out and played and had fun and then we—”
Paisley continued rambling on all about her week with my brother. Her cheeks reddened with excitement as she relived all the adventures they’d taken. Just hearing about it, I was jealous, but I wouldn’t have traded my trip to Seattle for anything.
“I’m glad you had a great time,” I told her. “Even though I really missed you, Pea.”
“I missed you too,” she said seriously. “But I think your vacation made you happy. You look happy today.”
I smiled and kissed the top of her head. She was right. I was happier than I could ever remember being.
“Come on,” I said. “I think it’s almost done.”
Helping her off the stool, I ushered her over to the table where I laid out bowls and spoons for each of us. Paisley pulled her stool across the kitchen floor and climbed up to get water glasses off the top shelf.
I took an instinctive step forward but quickly stopped. Standing just far enough away to make her feel independent, I watched as my almost five-year-old plucked three glasses off the top shelf and laid them gently on the counter beneath her. Climbing back down, she hopped onto the floor and carried the glasses to the table gracefully.
“When did you get so grown up?” I demanded.
Paisley just giggled and finished setting the table. I watched her out of the corner of my eye while I added the finishing touches to the soup. I’d only been gone one week and already, she’d changed so much.
As it often did, spending time with Paisley made me think of her mother.
No amount of time could heal the wound she had inflicted. On both myself and my daughter. The older Paisley became and the more she grew into herself, the harder it was for me to imagine a life without her. I could never understand how the woman who gave birth to her could just walk away without a second thought.
Luckily, I didn’t have much time to dwell on it before a knock on the door resounded through the kitchen.
Paisley bolted across the living room and threw herself against the front door, her tiny hand wrapping around the handle and twisting it around. She wrenched the door open just as I stepped up behind her.
“Hey, you.” Candice immediately bent down to wrap Paisley in a warm hug.
“Candice!”
Paisley squeezed Candice’s neck and bounced up and down in her arms. Candice smiled and hugged my daughter so tightly, I knew she’d missed her as much as I had.
“I’m glad you came,” I said when she straightened back up. “I missed you.”
She kissed me swiftly. “It’s only been a couple hours.”
“Still too long,” I complained.
We made our way back to the kitchen where Paisley presented the soup with a dramatic wave of her tiny arm. Candice clapped and opened her eyes wide, playing up her excitement for Paisley’s benefit.
I dished us each a bowl before settling down beside Candice to start dinner. We slurped on our soup as Paisley watched us both with expectant eyes.
“So?” She hopped onto her knees and sat up. “Is it good? Am I a good cook now?”
“You’re amazing,” Candice said. “It’s delicious.”
“So good,” I added.
Satisfied, Paisley sat back down and picked up her own spoon. She splashed a bit down the front of her shirt, bringing back the impression that she was still just a baby. I didn’t even care about the mess. I suddenly wanted her to stay this small forever.
“Did you have fun in Sea-Settle?” Paisley asked between bites.
“Seattle,” I corrected with a smile.
“Yeah, that.”
“It was really fun,” Candice said. “There’s this really cool mountain that’s like right by the city. I think you’d like it to see it. Maybe even climb it one day.”
Paisley’s eyes lit up. “Really? You climbed it?”
“We didn’t this time,” Candice said. “But I think it would be fun. Don’t you?”
“Yeah!”
“Then, we’ll go,” Candice promised. “When you’re older.”
“What else is there in Seattle?”
Paisley listened attentively while Candice told her everything about our trip. She described the Space Needle and ho
w cool the view was from the top. She told Paisley about the artist we both met on the street, about the marketplace and all the cool things to buy there, and about the awesome balcony in our hotel room.
By the time she was finished, Paisley was begging to go.
“Plus,” Candice said quickly. “There are these boats that take people way out in the water, and once you’re out there, you can see whales everywhere.”
“Like Free Willie?” Paisley asked with a frown.
“Exactly like that,” I said.
Paisley’s jaw dropped. “Can I swim with them?”
“No.” Candice and I said together.
Looking at each other, we both snorted. Paisley didn’t let us stop there. She asked question after question about all the places we saw and the ones we didn’t. The three of us planned out a month’s worth of vacation just in the time it took to eat half our soup.
“Can we go before kindergarten starts?” Paisley asked.
I shook my head. “Probably not, Pea,” I said. “Candice and I both have to work.”
“You can quit!” Paisley said like it was the best idea she’d ever had. “You could just go tell them that you don’t like them anymore and quit.”
Candice laughed lightly. “That’s not really how it works.”
“Why not?”
Candice glanced at me, and I cleared my throat. Looking down at Paisley’s bowl, I nodded my head for her to finish. She groaned but picked up her spoon anyway.
My eyes turned to Candice just as her chin hit her chest. She fiddled with her thumbs while Paisley loudly slurped her soup beside us. She was oblivious to Candice’s sudden mood change, but I couldn’t miss it. I stared at her until the pressure of my gaze forced her eyes up.
She smiled easily and reached for my hand. Silently telling me she was fine, Candice squeezed my fingers and turned back to Paisley.
They talked excitedly for a few more minutes before we put the leftover soup away and did the dishes. Paisley played with her toys at our feet while Candice helped me load the dishwasher.
I kept flicking my eyes to Candice’s face, still sure that something was wrong.
“Hey,” I whispered. “You’ve been preoccupied since we landed this morning. What’s going on?”