“Okay, what are your terms?” I face her fully, each of us having one leg bent while the other hangs off the cushions.
“I will negotiate with Christian.” She holds up a hand, and I don’t dare interrupt her. “I’m not calling him Dad. He shall be Christian until I decide otherwise.” She looks at me with such seriousness that I almost tell her I’m not a judge.
“Understandable.”
“I am willing to negotiate with him, with Kenzie acting as my lawyer.”
“I didn’t realize Kenzie was a lawyer.” I frown. I mean I knew she worked at the municipal building, but I didn’t realize she was a lawyer.
“Really, Mom, do you even know your friends?” She huffs at me. “Kenzie was one of the leading lawyers at a firm in New York, then she had a falling out with Arthur.” She rolls her eyes at me.
I’m curious about that information, but I nod and keep my mouth shut, knowing she is on a roll and hasn’t even reached her point yet.
“As I was saying, I’m willing to negotiate with Christian.” Her nerves leak through as she adjusts her sweatshirt. “If we move here.”
“Is that all?” I ask with as much neutrality as I can.
“I think you should make things work with Arlo.”
“Do you?” She has no idea I’ve already come to this very conclusion two nights ago, but it’s fun to let her spin.
“I do—he is perfect for you, and he looks at you like…” She frowns. “Like…” Now she harrumphs. “Like Prince Charming looks at Cinderella.”
“Oh?” I hum under my breath. “Which version?”
“Mom,” she whines.
“I need to know if we are talking Disney or the Brothers Grimm.”
“You’re serious?”
“I never joke about the Grimm versions.”
“You are truly disturbed.” She shakes her head at me. “Mom, just try.”
“I don’t know,” I hedge.
A throat clears. “Hey, I just wanted to bring your bags in.” Arlo stands at the door, his face flushed as he avoids my gaze.
He can’t think that I wouldn’t want him, could he? Oh no.
“Arlo!” He definitely heard me.
“I’ll just leave this here.” He drops my bags and turns around without even looking back.
I look at Lark, not sure what to do.
“Looks to me like in this story, the princess chases the prince,” Lark teases me.
“That’s not funny. I already made up my mind to stay!”
“Then you better pull on your running shoes, Mom.” Her smile reflects the excitement in my veins. “Go snag your happily ever after.”
“You.” I point at her, my legs twitching to run.
The front door slams.
“Better run, Mom.”
