“But at least you’d know the truth,” Mason said. “Or her version of it anyway.”
“It would be hard for me to feel worse than I do right now, so there’s that,” I said.
Mason nodded encouragingly, like that was so positive.
“I’ll think about it,” I said. A thought ran through my mind, but I wasn’t sure if I should say it out loud. But, then again, these two people now knew my deepest, darkest secret, so what the hell?
“I guess what gets me is that Maisy isn’t even mine. And I just feel so protective of her, like I would do anything to keep her safeand make her happy. So it’s hard for me to understand how a mother could walk away from a child she had raised from three years old. You know?”
Amelia nodded. “I know. But maybe she had a good reason.”
Maybe she had a good reason. Of course I’d considered that many, many times. I just couldn’t imagine what that reason could be. I stood up and turned to Amelia. “Okay. Enough of this! You, missy, have some packing to do. I will get the kids from school tomorrow and then Camp Amelia will be underway!”
She stood up and hugged me. “Thank you. You are giving me the greatest gift.”
I laughed. “Are you kidding me?” I looked around. “You guys have givenmethe greatest gift. I am so blown away.”
I did a quick mental scan. I’d have plenty of time to meet DSS at ten and pick the kids up by twelve. Easy breezy. It occurred to me that I was taking my entire four days off this week to keep Greer and George. But, instead of feeling resentful, I could only be excited. I couldn’t wait to explore Cape Carolina more through their eyes, take them on adventures!
Mason was still sitting. I turned to look at him. “Oh, I’m not leaving,” he said. “I’m taking you to dinner.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Oh, are you, now?”
He nodded.
“Where will we possibly go that the famous baseball coach won’t be accosted?”
He shook his head. “That’s really only on the day before a game, game day, and after the game.”
“So, four days a week you’re in the clear!”
“Plus, we’re going to Al’s. No one will bother us there.”
Amelia grimaced. “You cannot take her to Al’s. It’s seedy.”
“It’s legendary,” Mason said. “And she can’t truly be a local until she goes.”
Amelia waved her hand. I smiled. But what I was really thinking about was tomorrow. Would all their hard work be enough to convince DSS that I was the right one to foster Maisy? I could only hope and pray that it would.
For now, I would let Mason take me to the seedy local joint that, evidently, had knock-your-socks-off cheesesteaks. And I’d worry about tomorrow tomorrow.
MASONSeedy Bar Devotee
Taking Daisy to Al’s was a test. Sure, Dogwood and my house were a great part of my life. But, at my core, I was a former athlete, a coach, and a seedy bar devotee. Could she be on board with that? As Daisy pushed me out of the way saying I had taken too long a turn at the pinball machine, I decided that she was passing my test with flying colors.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she reared back and then flung her entire body forward as she pressed the red buttons on the side of the machine that controlled the piece that catapulted the little silver ball. I held my breath as it sailed all the way to the top hole. One hundred points. She jumped up and squealed. She was so excited as she threw her arms around me that I couldn’t find it in myself to be upset that I had lost. (I know it’s just pinball, but you don’t get to college-level sports bynothaving a competitive streak.)
Around us, Al’s was packed. Families sat at orange linoleum tables around the pinball machines; bodies were lined three deep at the old wooden bar waiting for Cape Carolina’s coldest beer in plastic cups. Over the speakers, “Two Princes” by Spin Doctors came on. I was just old enough to remember the awesomeness of ’90s rock. To mysurprise, Daisy started singing the song, though she was definitely super young at the time of its release. My shoes stuck to the white vinyl tile floor that had been there for so long it was grayed and faded and chipped in places. A neon sign over the pinball machines blinked, half its bulbs missing, and TVs in the corners and over the bar played six different games. All that to say: This was hardly a picture-perfect moment. But I’d had several cinematic moments already to kiss Daisy, and I had not taken advantage of them. And so, as she jumped into my arms, I lifted her up off the floor and kissed her. It wasn’t a big, thunderbolt-explosion, make-out kiss. But it wasn’t a peck either. It was the perfect first kiss. Sweet and deep and just long enough to make you want another one.
I sort of forgot we were in a seedy bar. Until a man’s voice hollered, “Yeah, Coach,” and spontaneous applause broke out. I put Daisy down and whispered, “Sorry,” grinning at her. “I couldn’t wait one more second to kiss you.”
It was cheesy but very, very true.
She buried her face in my neck and shook her head. Then she pulled away and said, “Mason Thaysden, you sure do know how to make a girl forget about her shitty day.”
“As a person who has had some shitty days of his own, I feel I excel in that area.”
She leaned against the pinball machine.
