Paul gives me a wave before heading back without taking our order. That’s the best part of coming here. Paulknows us and will always have our order in at lightning speed.
Paul’s Pizzeria is hopping for a Thursday night. The take-out line is snaking around the wall.
“Hi, Miss Smith!”
Harper? Where?
I turn to see where the girls are waving and I spot the woman walking toward us. Nerves burble up in my stomach. I haven’t seen Harper since we kissed at the end of last week.
Doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about that kiss ever since.
“Marcus. What are you doing here?”
“It’s pizza night!” Sam answers for me. “Daddy takes us out for pizza every week.”
“As long as we’re good at school,” Sadie clarifies.
Harper gets down on her level. “You mean you don’t make pizza at home?”
Sadie snaps her gaze to mine. The look there is like I told her Bluey doesn’t exist in real life. “Why have we never made pizza before?”
“You like coming to Paul’s.”
“But why can’t we make our own?” Sadie scoffs.
It’s not much, but this brief show of attitude makes me nervous for them to become teenagers. All over not making pizza at home.
“Maybe next week for pizza night we can make our own.”
Harper’s hand is covering her mouth. Those bright blue eyes give her away. They’re sparkling with the smile she’s hiding.
“What kind of pizza do you get?” Harper asks, once she’s composed herself.
“Pepperoni, ham, and olives.”
“Olives? You like olives?”
Sadie nods at her as Paul drops off two juice boxes and sparkling water for me. “Olives are my favorite.”
“Have you tried olives?” Sam asks her, screwing up her face as she stabs her straw into the hole on her drink.
Harper laughs. “I’ve tried olives before. Not my favorite.”
“Have you had them on pizza?” Sadie asks, pointing a knowing finger at her.
Harper shakes her head. “I don’t think I have.”
Sam’s face lights up. “Dad, can Harper have pizza with us tonight? She has to try it. Please?”
She clasps her hands together under her chin, turning puppy dog eyes on me.
“Why don’t you ask Harper and see if she can stay?”
If I ask, I don’t know what her answer would be. Would she want to sit here and have pizza with us after that kiss? Would it be too awkward? If the girls ask, she has to say yes. No one can say no to my girls. How I manage to tell them no when I need to is one of life’s great mysteries.
“Harper. Will you please have pizza with us?” Sam asks, turning those wide, big eyes on Harper.
“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt family pizza night.”
