An hour later, we were at my house with Vance’s duffel bag and Margot’s small suitcase. I unlocked the front door and ushered the girls inside. “Here we are.”
Margot stepped in first, looking around with those serious eyes of hers. What did she see? Was it a disappointment compared to her mother’s house?
The open floor plan meant you could see the living room flowing into the kitchen—white cabinets, butcher block countertops, a small island with two stools tucked underneath. Black pendant lights hung above, and I’d painted the ceiling beams a soft gray-blue that matched the shutters outside. Hardwood floors ran throughout, softened by a natural jute rug under the coffee table. My living room furniture was arranged around the fireplace, with the television hung above.
Everything was warm and lived-in but carefully arranged. Books stacked on the coffee table. A pottery bowl filled with shells we’d collected from the beach. Fresh flowers in a simple white vase on the kitchen counter. Mia’s artwork framed on one wall. Family photos on the mantle above the small fireplace.
Margot let go of her suitcase and wandered over to the mantle, looking up at the photos of Mia at various ages—Mia as a gap-toothed six-year-old, Mia at her eighth-grade art night, standing proudly beside her winning drawing, Mia and me snuggled together on the beach, all five of the kids at their kindergarten graduation.
Margot let out a small sigh, her shoulders lifting and falling, but didn’t say anything.
“My mom decorated it all herself,” Mia said. “Because that’s what she does. She’s the best designer in the world.”
“It’s nice here,” Margot said. “Soft.”
“That’s what I wanted,” I said, smiling. “When I decorated it, I thought about all the sweet times Mia and I would have here together. And with our friends—like you and your dad.”
“Do you want to see my room?” Mia asked, picking up Margot’s suitcase. “You can choose if you want the bottom or top bunk.”
“Okay.”
Margot followed Mia up the stairs. Mia chattered away about her art corner and her books and how they could rearrange things to make space for Margot’s stuff.
Vance let out a long breath. “I need a glass of wine.”
“I’ll open something.” I took both his hands in mine. “What an adventure we’re having together, right?”
“I guess that’s one way to say it.” He kissed my forehead, holding me close for a second or two. “Thank you—for this. And for Mia. She’s such a generous girl, agreeing to share her room.”
“She loves it. I know she’s always wanted a younger sibling.” I raised an eyebrow. “I mean, she has siblings, but she doesn’t really know them.”
“Whatever the reason, she’s been a star today,” Vance said. “I’m crazy about your girl.”
“She’s crazy about you.” I smiled up at him.
“Honestly, until you ladies showed up, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. As much as I hate to put you out, thinking of taking her to the inn scared me. I mean, can you imagine? Two people who don’t know each other trapped in a hotel room together?”
“She’ll know you soon enough. This is bumpy right now, but it’ll get better.”
“I hope you’re right.”
I took his hand, leading him to the kitchen area, and gestured toward the wine fridge built into the bottom cabinetry. “You pick. I’ve got some decent bottles in there.”
“I’m on it.”
Soon, Vance was tugging the cork from a bottle of French Chablis. “It’s sexy that you have good taste in wine.”
I laughed. “I’m glad you approve.”
As Vance poured, the girls came down. Margot was already looking more relaxed.
“Can we have ice cream now?” Mia asked.
I nodded. “Sure.” I’d forgotten to grab the tubs I’d brought to Vance’s, but that was all right. I always had some in my freezer.
Mia yanked open the freezer door. “Margot, we have vanilla bean or cookie dough. Which do you like better?”
“I’m not allowed to have ice cream,” Margot said. “So I’m not really sure.”
