Emmett’s gaze ticks over to my grandfather and he raises two fingers in the air in a casual wave. Then his eyes track back to me one more time before he turns away and refocuses on the game.
Apparently, everything about today is hot, and right now I’m playing with fire.
Maybe it’s not Emmett that’s awakened the side of me I thought I shut off years ago. Maybe I’m lonelier than I believed. Maybe I do want to be with someone, andthat’sthe issue I’m having here. It’s not Emmett.
Itcan’tbe Emmett.
I need it to be anyonebutEmmett.
“Ed’s son . . .” I begin.
My grandfather perks up next to me at the mention. “Michael?”
“Go ahead and give him my number. I think you’re right. I think it’d be good for me to meet someone new.”
16
Emmett
“That’s my new favorite one,” Travis declares, spoon pointed in the direction of the lemon mousse Miller prepared.
Although, I know that dessert is not as simple as a mousse. I know it has some fancy name I won’t be able to pronounce.
“I think the chocolate still wins.” Isaiah takes another bite of each dessert just to be sure.
“Well, good news for both of you.” My daughter throws her dish towel over her shoulder. “They’re both getting added to the menu.”
“This is the best side gig anyone could ask for,” Cody says, mouth full as he speaks. He then proceeds to steal the lemon mousse from Travis, finishing the rest before anyone could have a chance to sample it again.
“Dad, which is your favorite?”
I can’t tear my eyes away from my first baseman as he inhales the dessert, not giving himself time to even take a breath.
“I don’t know.” I grimace, watching him. “Kind of lost my appetite.”
“Sorry, Coach.” Cody finishes the last bite before taking a deep inhale, sitting back in the stool at my daughter’s kitchen island to stretch his stomach. “She’s too good at this.”
That she is.
Miller has always been an excellent baker, something she took up when she was just a kid because I was, admittedly, pretty terrible in the kitchen. Thankfully, my shortcomings caused herto experiment and find her passion, and after years of traveling the country to create Michelin-star dessert programs, she’s now got her own patisserie right here in Chicago.
Every so often, when she’s looking to create new menu items, she has us over for a taste test. Sometimes it’s just me and the Rhodes brothers. Other times Cody and Trav join in. And when she’s experimenting for a full menu revamp, the entire team piles into their home to sample each item.
Baking for her loved ones is what helped her find her passion again after a bit of burnout, and years later, it’s still a part of her process.
“But, Dad, if you had to choose one,” Miller begins again, “which one was your favorite?”
“Millie, you know I can’t choose. I think they’re both excellent. People will be lining up for them.”
She offers me a grateful smile, and I watch the moment she catches herself.
At times, I still find her looking for my approval. Whether it be in small things like a dessert preference, or bigger things, like which wedding dress she should choose.
She’s better about it now, but there were a lot of years that Miller lived her life as if she were in debt to me. As if me leaving my career and becoming her dad required her to prove that she would be successful in return.
Miller just being Miller is all I could’ve asked of her, and up until she met Max, I don’t think she ever really believed that was enough. But she’s a mom now. It’s good to see her understand how I feel about her because she loves Max in the same way.
Speaking of my favorite three-year-old, little Max comes waddling into the kitchen, pajamas on and hair still damp from his bath. He holds his hands up for me to pick him up off the ground.
