Maggie taps her chin. “As in?—”
“Nanners,” Wyatt says. “As in,bananas. Because Lucca and I both love banana cream pie and we both love this cat.”
“Huh,” I hum with a nod. “That makes complete sense.”
“It does?” Maggie turns from Wyatt to look at me.
“Yep,” Wyatt says, trailing his finger in front of Nanners. Her gray eyes watch him. “You know, Lucca, Aunt Maggie named me.”
“You did?” I say, forehead creased.
Maggie presses her lips together. “I did.”
“How did you come up with Wyatt?”
She clears her throat. “My coach from my U-23 team—her name is Darbee Wyatt. She meant a lot to me. She supported me on and off the field.”
Wyatt’s still playing with Nanners—he knows this story.
I grin. “That’s nice.”
Maggie just nods.
“All right,” I say. “In honor of Nanners finally getting her name, we’d better eat pie.”
And so we do. We eat, with Nanners attempting to help herself to the whipped cream the entire time. Ten minutes with Wyatt, and my cat is behaving in ways I’ve never seen before. She’s jumping, running, crawling, and pouncing.
He’s changed her from my quiet little kitten to a beast.
And Maggie’s loving every second.
Thirty-Two
After we’ve haddessert and the dishes are put away, we watch Wyatt and Nanners. For a solid hour, the two play while Maggie and I watch and laugh. Nanner’s is almost like a new girl with her name and Wyatt here to play with.
“It’s really too bad your dad is allergic,” I say after Wyatt and Nanners have both fallen asleep on my living room carpet. “He loves this.”
Maggie sighs, peering down at her nephew and my cat curled up to his side. “You have banana cream pie in the fridge, you play soccer, and you’ve presented him with a kitten. This might be Wyatt’s heaven.”
I think it might be Maggie’s heaven, too. Wyatt, kittens, and it might just be wishful thinking, but maybe… me.
Maggie leans back on the couch, just one foot away from me. “I’m sorry we interrupted your night. I didn’t mean to send your friends home,” she says, her tone low.
My brow cinches. “Don’t be sorry. Interrupt anytime you want.”
She scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I can only imagine what Wade and Tru are thinking. Besides, it’s?—”
I lift my hand and lean in, pressing one finger to her lips. If the woman talks about the rules one more time, I’m going to issue her a yellow card in my home. “It’s okay,” I assure her. “Can I ask why you came?” I’m not crazy—I could hear the stress in her text when she asked to come.
She presses her rosy lips together, forcing my gaze to her mouth. “That weekend with Brent my sister was considering—the one I told you about in Denver. She decided to go.” Her jaw tightens. “They left today.”
“Her boyfriend. I remember him.”
“Yeah. They’ve been talking online, and then several weeks ago, they met in person.” She folds her hands together. “The horrid blind date you caught me on. That’s the reason I was there.”
“To chaperone your sister.”
“Not chaperone.Protect. Lindy’s been through a lot. I couldn’t let her go out with a man she’d never really met.”
