I chuckled. “I think teaching children the fundamentals of human knowledge is more important than teaching intelligent adults how to excel in their careers. But thank you.”
“You’re too modest, Alec.”
“Thank you, Lumen,” I replied, my voice rougher than I liked. Something about her using my given name made goosebumps roll along the back of my neck.
“Lumen is a pretty name, Ms. Browne,” Evanne interjected.
Before I caught myself, I murmured my agreement. Lumen blushed, and I took a sip of my wine to hide my embarrassment. Dammit, what was I doing?
“Thanks, Evanne. Yours is very pretty too.”
My daughter wrinkled her nose. “I like it, but teachers sometimes think my name is Evan when they first take attendance.”
“Teachers used to call me Lummin,” Lumen said.
“My American teachers often called me Alex.” I joined in the conversation.
“Names are tough,” Lumen laughed. “Give us teachers a break. We try our best.”
“I think you try best,” said Evanne. “And trying hard is important.”
“Aye, it is,” I agreed.
Everyone was smiling, and it was hard to remember that this wasn’t going to be how things always were. It was hard, pushing down the attraction that kept creeping up on me. It was harder when I flashed back to our night together, the taste of her, the sensation of her touch. I wondered if she replayed that night in her mind much as well.
This wasn’t a date, I reminded myself more than once. Evanne was the one who had invited Lumen for dinner, not me. I could innocently enjoy the company of my daughter’s teacher – as long as I didn’t enjoy ittoomuch.
We continued with small talk until we finished dinner. Lumen thanked me graciously for the meal and offered to help clean, but I refused, taking the plates away. “Go ahead and finish your wine. I’ll wash everything later tonight. By which I mean my dishwasher will take care of everything. Spared no expense onthatlittle helper.”
She agreed, though she seemed a little uncomfortable with staying at the table while I brought out dessert. Nothing fancy, but rather simple ice cream sundaes. Sundae night had been a tradition for Evanne and me since Evanne was six, and it felt right to share it with Lumen. Despite the name, we always had them on Saturdays since Keli had always picked Evanne up Sunday afternoons before dinner. I hadn’t seen any reason to stop the special treat night just because Evanne was here all the time now.
“I’ve been awfully spoiled tonight,” Lumen declared when she finished.
“You should come over again! All the time,” Evanne said as she worked on her ice cream. She spent the first few minutes swirling it around until it was an even light brown mixture of chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream, with hazelnuts and Oreo crumbs spread around.
Lumen put two healthy spoonfuls of hot fudge on the vanilla ice cream in her bowl. “Thank you, Evanne, but I really don’t think your dad needs to cook for three all the time, my dear. But as for tonight, it’s getting rather late…”
“Just about bedtime, in fact,” I said to Evanne. She looked forlorn, but I stuck with it. “Finish your dessert and then bed.”
We’d established a bedtime routine when she’d been visiting me and had just transitioned it to a regular thing, so she knew what that meant. Since she’d taken a bath when we’d gotten back from our run, we could skip that tonight.
“Ms. Browne, could you read me a story before bed?” Evanne asked.
“A story?” Lumen laughed. “What kind of story?”
“Something from one of my books. Please? Just for a minute?”
Lumen looked to me helplessly. Evanne’s “please” was a powerful spell. “Well, if your dad says it’s okay…”
“You really don’t have to, lass,” I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it. If I hadn’t been attuned to her so well, I wouldn’t have noticed the sharp intake of air that preceded Lumen speaking.
“I don’t mind, but if it’s…”
“No, no, I mean, you’re more than welcome to…”
“Well…okay, then.”
Our desperate attempts at being polite brought us to an awkward resolution that somehow landed in Evanne’s favor. She pumped her fists in the air.
