Everything will be fine.
This is a good thing.
Tonight will be fun.
I was sweeping the back porch, attempting to convince myself with every swish of the broom that introducing Charlie and Logan tonight was going to go well.
It wasn’t working.
Ever since Logan had walked out of my workshop last night, I’d guessed at how this would go. I’d imagined every likely scenario. None of them ended with hugs and kisses.
Logan wanted so badly for Charlie to like him. I’d seen the desperation in his eyes. It would crush him if she didn’t run into his arms and call him Daddy.
But I knew my daughter. She wasn’t as easygoing as other children. She was a thinker. She pondered change. And a life-altering one like this would take her time to accept.
She would eventually. Someday, hopefully not too far in the future, she would adore Logan. But the chances of her embracing him tonight were slim to none. If she wasn’t all smiles tonight, I didn’t want him to give up on her.
I’d been given up on more times than I could count, and I didn’t want that for my precious girl.
I poured my nerves into the broomstick, sweeping hard to clear the dust from the porch. I held it back for one last strong push but stopped the bristles midstroke. The hairs on the back of my neck stood.
There were eyes on me. I could feel them.
But the yard was empty. Hazel was at the bar to pester Jackson and make herself scarce. Charlie wasn’t anywhere in sight, probably off in the trees to play in her fort or find some other creature to try and sneak into the house. Logan’s face popped into my mind but I dismissed it immediately. It was way too early for him to be here.
So who was looking at me?
I set aside the broom and walked down the porch steps toward the middle of the yard. I turned in a circle, looking for a neighbor close by or someone in a boat out on the lake.
There was no one.
Strange.
“Charlie!” I called loud. “Time to come inside!”
“Okay!” she called back from the trees.
I went back up to the porch, scanning the yard again as I walked. Then I shook my head, giving myself a good eye roll. The nerves for this dinner were making me crazy.
I went inside and put away the broom just as Charlie rushed inside. “Hi, Mommy,” she said, out of breath.
“Hello, my love. Did you have fun playing?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m thirsty.”
“I’ll get you some water.” I took down one of her plastic cups from the cabinet and filled it from the sink.
She gulped down the water and set the empty cup on the counter. Then she smiled up at me from underneath her favorite baseball cap.
The hat had once been black but was now faded to a dirty brown. The stitched logo for the Lark Cove Bar had started out white but that hadn’t lasted longer than a day.
Some Lark Cove parents frowned at me for letting Charlie wear a cap advertising a bar. But Jackson had given this hat to her and she adored it almost as much as her pseudo uncle. Since I was used to getting looks of disapproval, I shrugged it off and let her keep the hat.
The bill was too large, but Jackson had curved it to cover her face. And he’d cinched the back tight so it would fit around her small head. Other than those differences, it matched his own faded bar hat.
To Charlie, that was all that mattered.
“Let’s get your hat and shoes off.”
“ ‘Kay.” She used my shoulder for balance as she kicked off her tennis shoes. They were black with neon-green stripes and matching lights in the soles. She’d picked them out of the boys’ section at the shoe store. When I’d offered her the same style but in pink, she’d looked at me like I’d grown two heads.
Off came her shoes and dirt bits went flying across the scuffed hardwoods. The socks she stripped off were rimmed with dust. I didn’t know why I always bought white socks. Even bleach couldn’t keep them from turning brown.
“Okay, now let’s go wash your hands.”
“Fine.” She frowned and trudged past me in her bare feet to the half bathroom off the living room.
I followed, leaning against the door as she washed. As the water ran, I took a few calming breaths, reassuring myself with each one.
She would get through this. We both would. We’d find a way to work Logan into our lives.
This is a good thing.
With her hands kind of clean, Charlie shut off the water. Her cuticles were still dirty, but that was normal. I’d bought a vegetable scrubber that was permanently located in the bathtub upstairs. Tonight, just like every night, I’d give her a thorough scrubbing and rejoice in her cleanliness until morning rolled around and she made a break for the yard.
“So,” I said as she dried off her hands. “I wanted to talk to you about something exciting.”
She froze. “What?”
Damn. She’d seen right through my fake, cheery voice. I should have known better than to try and spin this as an exciting surprise. Most kids loved surprises, but not my Charlie. She hated them almost as much as cleanliness.
So I dropped the act and walked over to one of the couches in the living room. “Come and sit with me.”
“Are you going to make me get rid of my fort?” Her forehead was creased with worry as she climbed up next to me on the sofa.
The last time I’d had a sit-down talk with her, I’d told her that I was going to be taking down the makeshift tree house she’d constructed out of cardboard boxes and duct tape. She’d cried over it for days until Jackson had come over and built her a tiny fort between two trees.
It was her sanctuary. While I escaped to my workshop, she ran to her fort to doctor animals or fight bad guys or hide away from monsters.
“No, honey. You can keep your fort.”
Her entire body relaxed as she sank into my side.
“I want to talk to you about something else.”
“Something good?”
“Yeah. Something great.” I wiped at a smudge of dirt on her forehead.
No matter how scuffed she was, my Charlie was gorgeous. Her hair was long and thick, a shade closer to Logan’s than my own. She had beautiful skin that was always bright and flawless. And her dark eyelashes were like mine. She’d only ever need one swipe of mascara.
“I want to talk about your dad.”
“My dad?”
I nodded. “Remember how I told you about him and drew you a picture? That his name is Logan and he lives far away?”
She sat still, waiting for me to continue. While most kids were a million questions a minute at this age, Charlie was the opposite. She soaked things in. She absorbed. The questions came later.
“Well, he’s here, and he wants to meet you.”
She blinked her big brown eyes.
“I told him he could come over for dinner tonight.”
Her eyebrows came together and she dropped her gaze to her lap.
There was a woodpecker outside, hammering into a tree. The sound echoed outside and funneled through the kitchen window I’d left open, hoping for a slight breeze to cool down the house.
As I waited for Charlie to say something, I listened to that woodpecker’s unsteady rhythm. It went on and on and on. Meanwhile, she just kept mulling things over while the tap, tap, tap continued. That woodpecker must be trying to knock down the tree, not just build a new home.
Shut up, bird.
I wanted to get up and shut the window, but with Charlie deep in thought, I didn’t dare leave. I wanted her to know if she needed me, that I was here.
I’d always be here.
I was the constant she’d have in her life, no matter what.
“Is he nice?” Charlie asked finally.
Her voice was quiet and soft. She wasn’t a loud child, nothing compared to the other twelve kids on her soccer team, but right now, she was borderline hard to hear.
“Yeah.” I smiled. “He’s nice.”
“Is he going to live here now?”
I shook my head. “No. He still lives far away.”
Her forehead creased. “Do I have to live with him too? Like how Katie spends some days with her mommy and others with her daddy?”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to promise that her life wouldn’t change too much. But I’d always been honest with my daughter. And I’d tried to never make promises I couldn’t keep.
So as brutal as it was for her age, I went with the truth. “I don’t know yet, honey.”
“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to move.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I know.”
We held each other for a few quiet moments. Even the woodpecker gave us some peace. But when he started up with the taps again, Charlie pulled away.
“Can I go play outside some more?”
“Sure.” I sighed, hating that I’d put a burden on her young mind. “Just stay in the yard.”
She nodded and slid off the couch, going straight to the door without any shoes.
Her feet would be filthy by the time I called her inside for dinner.
I didn’t care.
I let her escape to her sanctuary while I got off the couch to make dinner.
I rummaged through our square kitchen for a pan to brown some hamburger and a pot to boil water. I wasn’t a gourmet cook, but my food was delicious, if simple.
“This is a good thing,” I told the pot as it sat under the running faucet.
Even the damn cookware knew I was lying.
An hour later, at exactly six o’clock according to the microwave clock, the doorbell chimed. I took a slow breath and wiped my clammy hands on a dish towel before rushing from the kitchen through the living room to greet Logan at the door.
He smiled when he spotted me through the small glass window in the door, and my stomach dipped.
That smile was devastating. I bet he’d charmed many uptown socialites with that smile.
He was in jeans again, but this time they were paired with a simple blue button-up shirt, the sleeves turned up to reveal his forearms.
“Hey,” I breathed as I swung open the door.
“Hi.” He smiled wider and ducked inside, handing me a bouquet of baby sunflowers as he passed. “These are for Charlie. I, uh, didn’t know what else to get.”
“Thank you,” I said as I took the flowers. “She’ll love them.”
My hopes lifted as I took in the yellow blooms. Maybe this would go better than I’d thought. After all, he’d unknowingly bought Charlie her favorite flower.
She loved sunflowers because the birds could eat the seeds. Every fall, we’d buy a huge bundle and she’d place them strategically throughout the yard as makeshift bird feeders.
Maybe Logan and Charlie would connect immediately and all of my worries would be for nothing.
“And these are for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small bundle of spoons. “In case you run out before your project is over.”
I laughed as he handed them over. “Thank you.”
These spoons were twice as thick as the industrial-grade spoons I had in the workshop. You’d never find these in a school lunchroom or hospital cafeteria. They were nicer than the spoons I had in my own kitchen drawer.
“Come on in. Make yourself at home.”
Logan walked into the living room and looked around.
The cottage was the nicest home I’d ever had, but now it seemed too small and too common. Having Logan here, just like having him in my workshop last night, was a harsh reminder that he was from a different stratosphere.
For the first time, I was embarrassed for being so chemically attracted to him. Why would he want me when he probably had a fancy, rich girlfriend in New York?
Still, I had no control over how my body came to life when he was near. My blood heated. My palms ached to press against the hard planes of his chest. My fingertips itched to dig into the muscles of his sculpted ass.
But he wasn’t here for me. He was here for Charlie.
I was his one-night stand gone awry.
Nothing more.
I shook off the charge of his presence, concentrating on the matter at hand. Charlie was meeting her father tonight.
“So.” Logan began pacing around my small living room, his gaze sweeping over the two floral print chairs that somehow went with our celestial blue couch. “Did you, um, talk to Charlie?”
His fingers fidgeted with his watch as he spoke, and he’d run a hand through his hair twice already. Something about him was off tonight. He’d still charged the air and spiked the temperature with one step inside. He still smelled divine, thanks to his Armani cologne. But he was different.
He was nervous.
So, as gently as I could, I tried to put him at ease while hinting at how to approach Charlie.
“Yes, I talked to her. She’s . . . absorbing everything. She needs time to think, so just take it slow with her, okay?”
“Slow. Got it.” He nodded, staring at a canvas painting above the couch. “Did you do these?”
I nodded. “I did.”
A couple of years ago, I’d decided to try painting on a whim. Hazel had cleared out most of the artwork her parents had left her, and she’d asked me to make something to fill the walls. So I’d done three paintings.
The first was of me sitting on the dock by the lake. For my first attempt with oils, it had turned out okay. My hair was too light and the details a bit fuzzy, but it had been good practice for the others. The second painting was of Hazel’s beautiful profile. And the third, the one that Logan was trying to memorize, was of Charlie at one year old with her first two teeth showing through her happy smile.
I didn’t know what was going through Logan’s mind, but my heart squeezed for him regardless.
He’d missed all of those moments. The baby cuddles. The toddler babbles. He’d missed her first words and first steps.
For Logan’s sake, I hoped Charlie would cut him a break tonight. She was notorious for her intense scrutiny. Jackson called it her superpower. Most adults had nothing on my five-year-old girl.
Please, don’t let tonight be a disaster.
I wanted a good night for both of them because neither would ever forget it.
Wanting to give Logan a moment, I cleared my throat. “I’m going to put these flowers in some water. Then I’ll bring Charlie in.”
He didn’t turn away from Charlie’s face. “All right.”
I darted back to the kitchen and scrambled to put the sunflowers in a vase. As it filled with water, I peered out the window over the sink to the backyard. A streak of flying brown hair caught my eye as Charlie ran from her fort to the shoreline of the lake.
I shut off the faucet and left the flowers to hurry to the back door before she could get herself wet.
“Charlie!” I shouted. “Time to come inside.”
Her feet skidded to a stop on the grass, then her frame slumped as she changed direction, plodding toward the house and up the porch steps.
“Let’s get you washed up, okay?” I placed my hand on her neck as she came through the door, then steered her right for the sink.
As we both scrubbed her hands, she looked up at me. “Is he here?”
“Yes, he’s in the living room.”
Her tiny shoulders drooped so low my heart ached. It wasn’t Logan, just his presence. My girl struggled so much with change. It was just who she was. It didn’t help that her friend Katie had told her horror stories of trading homes every three days after her parents had divorced.
I shut off the water and knelt next to Charlie, caressing her cheek. “Logan is really excited to meet you and have dinner with us. Do you think you can be brave and give him a chance? We don’t need to worry about all of the other stuff tonight. Okay?”
She nodded and fell into my arms.
I held her tight, hoping to give her some of the courage she often gave me. Then I let her go and stood, holding out my hand.
When her little fingers slipped into mine, I smiled and led her out of the kitchen toward the living room.
Logan was sitting on the edge of the couch, his hands steepled together by his chin as one of his feet bounced. When he saw us come into the room, he stood fast. His eyes zeroed in on Charlie. “Hi.”
Her hand gripped mine harder.
“Come on, honey.” I walked farther into the living room as Logan stepped around the coffee table to meet us in the middle. “Charlie, this is Logan. Logan, this is Charlie.”
He knelt down in front of her and held out his hand. “Hi, Charlie.”
I tensed, holding my breath as I waited for her to react.
She was staring at his hand like it was the pink headband I’d tried to get her to wear once.
Logan’s eyes darted up to mine, then back to Charlie. His hand was still between them, begging for a touch.
It hurt to watch as she rejected him. My heart ached as the longing on his face grew while his hope dimmed.
Finally, the pain in my chest was too much and I pried Charlie’s hand out of my own. “Charlie,” I scolded, pushing her forward a step. “Don’t be rude.”
Reluctantly, she put her hand in Logan’s.
He swallowed hard as they touched, shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She looked over her shoulder to me with panic and whispered, “What do I call him?”
Logan chuckled and let her hand go. “How about Logan?”
She nodded and met his gaze, studying him for a moment. “Mommy said you live far away.”
“That’s right. I live in New York City.”
“And that’s why you didn’t visit me before?”
Logan looked up to me for help. “I, uh . . .”
“He didn’t know where we lived.” I dropped to my knee next to Charlie. “That’s my fault. But as soon as he found out, he came right here to visit.”
Logan gave me a sad smile, then focused back on Charlie. “I’d really like to get to know you, if that’s okay?”
The corner of her mouth turned up a bit. Was she actually going to smile? Could it really just be this easy?
“Do you like forts?” she asked.
He smiled and my heart started to race. Say yes, Logan! Just say yes! “I don’t know if I’ve ever been in a fort. Do you have one?”
She nodded and flashed him a shy smile. “It’s outside. I can show you.”
“How about after dinner?” I offered.
“Sounds great.” Logan and I both stood, sharing a look of pure relief.
“Okay, we’d better eat.” I turned and led the way toward the kitchen.
Charlie and Logan followed in silence, sitting at the dinner table as soon as we got to the kitchen. I left them there and went to the stove to bring over the food. But the kitchen was small and with the table in the corner, I could still hear them.
“Are you going to stay here now?” Charlie asked.
“Well, um, no.” I looked over my shoulder to see a rush of panic cross Logan’s face. “I have to go back home in a week.”
Charlie’s forehead furrowed as she took a few more steps and stopped. “Then you’ll be gone again?”
“I guess. But I’ll come back again to visit.”
“When?”
The good feeling I’d had a moment ago vanished. Like most kids, Charlie remembered promises. Every detail. If Logan committed to a visit and it fell through, she wouldn’t forget.
Goddamn it. Why hadn’t we talked about this more last night? Why hadn’t I prepped him? We should have made a more specific plan. We should have delayed this meeting until the two of us were on the same page.
But now it was too late. He was here and she was asking the questions she had a right to have answered.
My insides started to twist. I abandoned the stove for the table, but before I could jump in and change the subject, Logan spoke up.
“I’m not sure.” Logan smiled. “But soon. And maybe you and your mom can come and visit me in New York. You could even move there and live with me.”
Wrong answer.
“No!” Charlie’s wide eyes snapped to mine. Her chin quivered. “I don’t want a dad anymore.”
My feet froze as the pain hit because from three feet away, I felt Logan’s heart break.
