“That’s great,” she supplies with traces of concern in her eyes. “Now, how didyouhandle drop off?”
“In front of her I was fine. The moment I parked my car outside of the diner I broke down like a little baby.”
Lauren’s bottom lip juts out. “I'm sorry you were alone. I should have taken the day to be with you.”
“I wasn’t,alone,per se,” I admit. “Tanner may have seen me crying and bought me pie and coffee.”
A slow smile grows across her face. “And?”
“And what?”
Lauren throws her hands up. “Are you not even the tiniest bit curious about him and where things could go?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“You have a guy who thinks the world of you and is trying to prove it.”
“Yeah, well Ethan tried that too at the beginning.”
Ethan had made sure he won me over. In those early days when he would sneak out late from his frat house to be with me. Driving me around aimlessly for hours on end, talking, and talking about whatever was on his mind. Then slowly, he started pulling away and taking those promises and kindness with him. He was charming just to lure me in and distant enough to keep me on edge. Every kindness was conditional.
“He isn’t Ethan,” Lauren says softly.
“I know.”
Her mouth twists as she leans back, and I see the fight flare in her eyes. The burn Lauren has had in her since childhood. “I’m not actually sure you do. I know you’ve been hurt, and I respect that. But Tanner doesn’t have these big secret motives. The man lives in a decrepit house and takes care of his chickens and plants. He has been on one date since he met you. One. And he never called her back.”
“Why didn’t he call her back?” I know it isn’t the question I should be asking. I should be focused on other parts of this conversation, but I can’t help it.
She tips her head and says, “Hannah. You know.”
“How I feel about him isn’t the only thing that matters here. It’s not just me anymore. I have Winnie. And he’s also a part ofyourfamily now. There’s just a lot of—” I don’t know what the word is. Moving parts? Puzzles pieces?
“Feelings,” Rhett fills in.
I hadn’t even realized he walked in.
“Yeah,” I admit. “Exactly.”
“Then let yourself feel them,” he says. “One way or another.”
I nod and push up from the table. “Alright. Enough about me. I’m here to help. What can I do?”
Later, after hours of wedding planning, nursery planning and way too many cups of coffee, I pull my car up to the curb of the Y. The counselors are out front with all the kids who are drawing with sidewalk chalk. I spot Winnie instantly as she and Poppy giggle at whatever picture they’re creating. No tears.
There hadn’t been a single day of the past school year where I picked her up and she had a smile on her face. Each time I pulled up to the curb to get her, she stood there with big, watery eyes and would instantly burst into tears at the sight of me. She would sit in quiet discontent the entire ride home. Every single day.
I step out of my car and spot a woman in a purple shirt and whistle around her neck, smiling at the kid’s artwork. Mrs. Maryanne. She’s my mom’s age at least, if not older. She has short gray hair and a fanny pack that looks like she’s had years to perfect its contents. She shifts her gaze from the kids to me and smiles brightly.
“You must be Winnie's mom!” She peers down. “Winnie, is that your mom? You could be her blonde photocopy.”
Winnie whips her head toward me, then launches herself up. I think a smile any bigger would have broken her face.
“Hey bug. How was your day?” I ask as she crashes into me, her arms squeezing me tightly.
“Iloveit.” She beams. “Can I come back tomorrow?”
“Of course. Go tell Poppy goodbye, then we can go.”
