“That’s the whole point. That’s what people remember. How you make them feel. And she made people feel really good.”
I nuzzle my cheek into the pillow, attempting to dry my face.
“Your dad and Oona, they…” Max blows some air out through his lips. “They don’t understand what they’re asking. But you focused on them and their happiness.”
“Iamhappy for them,” I whisper, continuing to pet Freddie as a distraction. “But I’m confused. He can continue on without her and get a new wife, but I can’t go out and get a new mom. I wouldn’t want to even if I could.”
“Oh, Daze.” Max leans towards me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. He does, but not on the lips—on my forehead. And if I could, I would cry all over again at the sweetness of his simple gesture.
“My parents really hung on for all those years, you know? On and off, but always married. It’s crazy that he’s ready to replace her and try harder with the whole marriage thing.”
“I guarantee you that’s not it. Hey.” Max’s hand slinks under the covers, his warm palm cupping my waist, as he rocks me until I look at him. “There’s no way. No matter who he loves, she’ll always be there. You Johnson women are unforgettable. Trust me.”
I know he’s talking about my mom, but my chest somersaults.
“We’re stubborn, too,” I say, meeting his eyes as a smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. “And hard to work with.”
“It’s part of your charm.”
I laugh, play-shoving his shoulder. As I examine the lines of his jaw, a sobering thought hits me.
“Do you think…” My heart’s pounding in my ears. “Maybe my parents were just two people who made their relationship more complicated than it needed to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“They met in college. They knew each other for years before they dated. What if they were better off as friends? Did they make a mess of things?”
He swallows, and I hold my breath, waiting for his response. He has to know the real question I’m asking.Didwemake a mess of things?
“No.” He shakes his head, his eyes trained on mine. Max tugs me closer, mere inches from his face, and he plants another one of those forehead kisses on me.
“Would you sleep here tonight?” I close my eyelids, not wanting to see a rejection reflected at me. “Not for…it’s just, it’s nice, having you here.”
“Of course.”
Max lifts the covers and slides under them next to me, big spoon to my little one. He’s a heater, and I want to collapse into the comfort of him. His arm drapes over me, tugging me closer so my back rests against the plane of his chest, my head tucked under his chin. I burrow closer, and he kisses the top of my head once more as I fall into a heavy sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Max, Now
I take a break from setting up the exhibit to answer a call outside. The sun has hit the highest point in the sky, and aside from a steady breeze and the distant sound of cars on the main road, Harlow has entered an afternoon calm. Inside the barn is the opposite—chaos, at least to the untrained eye. There are canvases, hanging wires galore, and tools everywhere. We’re on track, though.
We were, that is, until a minute ago.
“She would never do this,” the artist manager says, “but given the circumstances, you must understand.”
The niece of the most well-known artist in our show is one of the victims of my former boss. She hadn’t realized this when she signed on, but in an act of solidarity, she intends to back out.
We’re two weeks until opening.
“I’m putting this pop-up together independently. No ties to Impressions. You’ve explained that to her?”
The manager scoffs, as if I dare tell him how to do his job. No amount of reminding him how her name appears on the press releases or the pamphlets sways him. He doesn’t care that she had offered a personalized set of art supplies for the silent auction, either. According to the cancellation clause in her contract, all they legally have to do is ship her pieces back on their dime.
We hang up, and I tell my gallery assistants to take ten. I’ll need more than that to come up with a miracle, though. I will always be myself, and I will always have worked at that place.
And now that’s Daisy’s problem, too.
