29
EVERETT
Quinn twirls, sending tulle billowing around her. I admire her smile through the elongated mirror bolted to the closet door. We spent the last hour raiding every drawer and shelf in this house to pull together a decent tablescape—the one thing Summer put us in charge of for the evening—before heading upstairs to change.
“You look like a princess,” I tell her.
“I wuv it!” she exclaims, brushing her hands down the sparkly pink bodice and patting them on the skirt of her dress.
“And how do I look?” I stand from bended knee, straightening the braided leather around my neck. Dark denim, boots, and a sport coat were the best I could pull together from the wardrobe I brought home with me.
“Dood!” Quinn clasps her hands in front of her chest and jumps up and down.
“Good, huh?” I swoop her up, spinning her in my arms.
Let’s hope Summer thinks so too.
I admit, I’m nervous. I haven’t felt this jittery for a date in a long time. I can’t separate how much of those feelings are aresult of knowing I get to see Summer in that little black dress again or the conversation we need to have later this evening. She knows that I have two days left here before things will change. We haven’t talked about what that means for us yet.
“Ready for dinner?”
“Weh-ee!” Quinn replies.
I can’t pass the guest bedroom anymore without a giddy feeling taking over my stomach. It’s become my favorite room in this house, and I hate knowing it will sit empty soon.
Quinn bounds down the stairs in front of me. Excited is an understatement. Whenever I imagined taking Summer on our first date, I pictured us at a five-star restaurant on a rooftop terrace, alone. Seeing Quinn light up over an invitation to a fancy dinner at home with the two of us replaced that vision with a better one. Knowing it was Summer’s idea to include my daughter solidified the question I plan to ask her after Quinn goes to bed.
“Hey, Google, play ‘Today’s Top Hits’ on Spotify.” The device on the windowsill repeats my request, and music streams through the speaker. With the table set, I don’t know what else to do to keep busy. Every nerve in my body is a live wire, anticipating Summer’s entrance with rapt attention.
“Summa, wook!” Quinn capitalizes on her arrival with a pirouette.
The moment she’s visible through the opening to the living room, I can’t take my eyes off her. The last time she put on that dress, she was thinking of someone else. Tonight she’s wearing it for me.
“You look so beautiful!” Summer gasps, holding Quinn’s hand to help her twirl a second time.
“Fank you. I wuv yuh dess.” Quinn swishes her palm over the tight black fabric stretched across Summer’s stomach.
Fuck, I love your dress too.Now I’m secretly wishing this was the first date I had envisioned for us. It’s going to be impossible to remain a gentleman while Quinn is around.
“Thank you!” Summer giggles.
“Tum see! Tum see!” Quinn drags her by the hand toward the table where I’m standing—and still staring—waiting for them. When our eyes meet, we share a heated look that’s nothing like a first date glance. Maybe because the comfortability feels nothing like a firstanythingwith her.
“Wook!” Quinn exclaims, holding up a gold fork we found in my grandmother’s china collection.
“Pretty!” Summer’s attention bounces from me to the silverware, back to me, and then to the corner of the pale-blue tablecloth that Quinn’s now waving around.
“I love it all! You’ve outdone yourselves.” An orange ember glows in her eyes as she praises our candlestick centerpiece. “Now, who’s ready for their cooking lesson?”
Quinn jumps up and down with her hand raised. “Me!”
Summer skirts past me for the Target bag on the island. She parachutes the plastic as a resealable pouch lands with aplopon the countertop. “In case you ever run out of cereal.”
Quinn squeals at the sight of the Krusteaz label.
“Finally. Someone with good taste in pancake brands.” As a middle-aged man, I should probably feel embarrassed that she thinks I need to learn how to make them, but all I feel is appreciation. The only mornings Quinn has had hot breakfast, Summer made it. There’s a chance it will all be up to me again soon. I try not to think about that as I slip off my sport coat and roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. “Where do we start?”
Summer rips open the seal and glances behind me with an entertained smirk.
