“I’m heading out for a bit,” I call to her.
“Okay.” she responds.
Maddie twists around on the couch. “Are you going on a date?”
“No.”
“Suspicious,” she says.
“Don’t accept yogurt from strangers,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. “Dad.”
I grab my keys.
“Lock the doors. No glitter experiments. I’ll be back soon,” I call over my shoulder.
***
Natalie opens the door before I knock.
Daisy bolts forward like she’s been personally waiting for me.
She skids across the hardwood, nails clicking, tail helicoptering at dangerous speed. She sniffs my shoes, my jeans, my hands like I might be smuggling contraband treats.
“Hi to you too,” I mutter, crouching to scratch behind her ears.
She licks my wrist in approval.
Natalie watches us for half a second before her expression resets.
No smile. Hair pulled back. Sweater instead of blazer. Bare feet.
Serious.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
I don’t step inside until she moves back.
Her apartment smells like lemon cleaner and something baking.
We stand facing each other like we’re about to negotiate a treaty.
“Sit,” she says first, gesturing toward the couch. “Do you want water? Tea? Something stronger?”
“Water’s fine,” I say.
She disappears into the kitchen, pours it herself, hands it to me like we’re about to negotiate a merger.
Only then does she sit across from me in a chair, spine straight.
“I’ve thought about this. A lot,” she says instead.
I nod once. “I appreciate that.”
She folds her hands in her lap, steady. “I needed to make sure I wasn’t reacting to your panic. Or mine.”
