What now?
I stifle a groan and trudge back down the hall. She’s staring at the tree, beaming and pointing. “There are all these new gifts.”
“Yeah, I…put them out last night,” I say carefully, but it feels like I’m navigating a minefield. With my own kid. What the hell is even happening to me?
“From you and Isla!”
I didn’t even sign both our names on the tags, just mine. But now I feel like a dirtbag for excluding Isla. And I feel like a bigger dirtbag for the lie I’m about to tell. “Just from me, cupcake.”
I mean, it’s mostly true. I don’t need to tell Mia Isla shopped with me. Except. Fuck. I can’t do this. “Isla went shopping with me and helped pick them out,” I admit, since it feels wrong not to tell her that.
Mia’s eyes widen again. “Will she be here on Christmas morning? Oh, I hope so! We can make pancakes. And I even have a gift planned for Isla. I came up with it last night when I was out with Grams and Gramps. I need your help for it, but I know you’ll love it. I have gifts for you and a gift for them and a gift for Wanda and a gift for Isla, and it’s going to be amazing. I might even make her some cookies tonight because I know she likes cookies like I do.”
Then she snaps her head toward the clock. “We really better go.”
Yeah, we really better. But the thing is, I feel like I can barely move.
She’s planning a gift for Isla.
She wants Isla to be here on Christmas morning. That’speakfamily time.
She wants to re-create a photo.
Last night, I thought I was just scheduling another date with Isla—but it’s not that simple. Dating as a single dad never is. Because I invited Isla into my daughter’s life. I invited my daughter into the secret of fake-dating Isla.
And now, Mia wants her in her life for real.
And what the hell am I supposed to do if it doesn’t work out—like the last one didn’t, and left Mia heartbroken?
She kept asking for months if her mom was coming back.
I had to keep telling herI don’t know.
ThenI don’t knowturned intoI don’t think so.
And eventually,No.
Mia learned to find her strength again in books. She asked me to adopt a dog to complete our family.
Last time when a romance didn’t work out, it wasn’t my fault Mia was heartbroken.
This time, the blame would fall squarely on me.
49
MATCHMAKING EMERGENCY
ISLA
Rowan’s late. Rowan’sneverlate.
I’m pacing on the back patio of Rudy’s at six-thirty-five. He was supposed to be here at six-fifteen after dropping off Mia. I look at my phone again, like maybe I missed a text message in the last thirty seconds since I last checked. I sent him the location about an hour ago since I wanted tonight’s date to be as much of a surprise as possible.
I could just call him, but I don’t want to bethatperson. I always tell my clients to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes someone is running late. Usually, there’s just traffic and they couldn’t get to the phone. That’s probably what happened. There’s still some snow on the roads. It’s no big deal. He’s probably dropping off his daughter for the cookie class, and then he’ll be here any second.
I busy myself checking that everything is in order. The fire pit is ready to go, flames licking the cool night air. The twinkle lights are on. I’m recreating the night we agreed to fake-date—and doing it for real this time.
This time we have permission, though, since Ireserved the patio. And Rudy herself—yes, that’s her name—set it up for me.
