“Confident,” I correct. I don’t show it, but inside I’m beaming.
He snorts despite himself.
Maddie beams up at Natalie. “So you live with us now?”
“Mostly,” Natalie says.
I jump in. “We’re setting up the guest room too. So she has her own space. Office. Closet. You know I snore.”
Maddie bursts out laughing. “Daddy snores so loud,” she tells Natalie, delighted. “You definitely need your own room.”
Natalie squeezes my hand.
***
Lunch happens two blocks away in a small café that probably didn’t expect a spontaneous wedding party on a Tuesday afternoon.
We push tables together.
Her mom orders champagne. Mason orders water like he’s bracing for impact. Maddie insists on dessert first because “wedding rules.”
Natalie’s dad watches me from across the table.
“You understand this isn’t temporary,” he says.
“Yes, sir.”
“And you understand my daughter is not some solution to a problem.”
I meet his gaze.
“She’s not a solution,” I say. “She’s a partner.”
Natalie looks at me then.
Slow.
Intent.
Her mother dabs her eyes again.
Mason mutters, “Still insane,” but there’s less heat in it now.
Maddie leans across the table toward Natalie. “Can Daisy sleep in my room sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” Natalie says. “She has her own bed, though. We’ll bring it in and see where she likes it best. Maybe your room. Maybe mine.”
Maddie’s eyes light up. “She can try my room first.”
“Deal,” Natalie says.
“Good.”
“And I have to show you new things in my room,” Maddie adds quickly, turning back to Natalie. “I have a whole drawer ofdrawings. And my unicorn folder. And Mr. Pickles needs to meet Daisy so she knows he’s in charge.”
Natalie smiles. “I can’t wait to see everything.”
“Everything,” Maddie repeats seriously. “It’s a lot.”
