“She was great. She fit right in with the kids.” Mrs. Maryanne rests her hand on her hips. “We are so glad we fudged the rules for her a little bit.”
“Fudged the rules?”
“Oh, you know, there’s only supposed to be ten kids in asingle group, she makes eleven. But with Tanner Auclair’s insistence, I mean no one can deny an Auclair. Especially one as handsome as he is.” She winks. “He was a goofy boy back in the day. A little gapped tooth kid with freckles on his nose and messy hair. Please tell him I say hello.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Maryanne. I will.”
“Bye Poppy!” Winnie calls back and she runs back to me, water bottle in hand and her little drawstring backpack entirely twisted up as she attempts to put it on her back. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a mess and her new shirt has chalk all over it. She’s happy.
I open the door to the van and Winnie whines, “Mo-om. I got it.”
Never has she added an extra syllable to mom before. It’s always “Mommy”, rarely “Mom”, and never the preteen “Mo-om”. I bite my cheek and step back, letting her get the door and buckle herself in.
“What do you want for dinner?” I ask, doing my best to seem unruffled. “You can pick since it was your first day of summer camp.”
“Pizza,” she chirps.
“Pizza it is.”
15
By the time we get home, a cool breeze has replaced the hot sun-soaked air and Winnie insists on eating on what she now calls the deck, because balcony was too hard to say, and bacon knee made her laugh too much. So,deckfelt safe. The little window unit is struggling to keep up with the heat, and I think we are both just desperate for a breeze. Even a hot one.
“Here, have a seat. I’ll get us plates.” I pull out a chair for her and set the pizza box on the rickety table.
In the kitchen, I shuffle through the cabinets to find anything other than ceramic plates but there aren’t any, so I grab a few paper towels.
I hear talking when I approach thedeckand as I step out, I see Winnie is leaning against the banister.
“You said you would!” she yells down.
I take a step closer and see Tanner is walking toward his truck from the shop.
“I did promise, didn’t I?” he calls back and meets my eyes. “It’s up to your mom.”
Winnie spins around, hands clasped under her chin pleadingly.
“What are you up to?” I ask her.
“Can Tan have dinner with us tonight? Please?”
I look down now at Tanner and by the look in his eyes and quirk of the corner of his mouth, I know I don’t stand a chance in this battle. He has his hand shielding his eyes from the sun, and the other hand on his hip
“Sure,” I say to Winnie, and she whips around to him again.
“Mommy said yes!”
“Great. Tell Mommy I just need to put my stuff in my car then I’ll be up.” He winks.
My cheeks flame a bright red, and Tanner doesn’t bother trying to hide his amusement.
“No more leaning over the edge,” I tell Winnie. “We don’t have paper plates so we’re using paper towels for plates.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I go back to the kitchen and tell myself this is just friends having dinner. This is normal and calm and no big deal. I dig around the fridge for a few beers, convincing myself to believe the lie until the knock on the door comes. I try to settle my heartbeat and open it. He’s changed into a University of Michigan T-shirt, and it strikes me as it’s the most color he’s worn. He looks good in yellow.
His hair is more contained than it just was in the parking lot and as he steps in toward me, I get a whiff of, well him. Distant hint of his cologne, and that auto shop scent that I’m learning to love.
“Hi.” His voice is soft, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.
