Page 24 of Romantic

And then this guy just shows up and sweeps Annie off her feet. Of course I hate him. All day he kept playing with her hair, whispering in her ear, and stealing kisses. I’ve never wanted to punch someone so much in all my life. I’ve drained every last drop of willpower pretending I don’t care. And now I’m over it.

I take a step towards her.

“That guy’s a jack-a—” I hear Pepper’s door creak open. “Uh, he’s a jack-a-lope!”

“A jackalope?” Annie scoffs.

“Yes, a jackalope. He doesn’t merit the dignity of a full swear. He’s just as ridiculous and useful as a rabbit with antlers.”

“I think jackalopes are cute.”

“You would.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Oh, you know! You’re never serious about anything.” She winces at the comment, but I’m on a roll. “You act like life is one big romp. If Pepper really did sneak a tarantula into your boyfriend’s place, it’s on your head. With all your silly matchmaking last summer, you taught her that it’s perfectly fine—maybe even a good idea—to stick her nose into other people’s relationships.”

“It wasn’t silly. Edward and Elinor are happy together.”

“Hooray for them. Forgive me if I’m not thrilled about having my ten-year-old breaking into a strange man’s cottage.”

“You’d know what she was up to if you weren’t busy chatting with women on your dating app.”

“Woah! Who sounds jealous now?”

“I’m not jealous. I’m just . . . .”

“Telling me all the ways I’m failing as a parent. Thank you, Annie, I’m well aware.”

I walk over to the door and open it for her. “Good night. It’s late. I . . .”

“Wait!” She puts a hand up to get my attention but miscalculates the distance. Her open palm lands on my bare chest. We both stare at her fingers splayed on my left pec. My heart, already beating fast, accelerates. I’m too stunned to move or speak. Annie seems to have the same problem. Her fingers rest on the hairs on my chest. She raises her head and her wide green eyes meet mine. Her mascara is smudged and her red curls disheveled. I want her so much it hurts.

“You’d better go,” I say, stepping back. “Jack will be waiting for you.”

“I . . . um . . . yeah, I should go.” Her hand lingers in the air for a moment before she lowers it.

“I’m going to bed,” I say, already heading up the stairs. “Shut the door behind you on the way out. Oh, and Annie,” I glance back over my shoulder. “I’m not on any dating app. Pepper just made that up to mess with you. Maybe you should think about why it worked.” I march on up the steps without looking back.

On my way to bed, I peek again into Pepper’s room. Her eyes are closed tight. Too tight. She’s definitely pretending, and I’m going to pretend with her. I’m fairly sure she was watching Annie and me from the landing. Not my finest moment. My best guess is that Pepper did sneak that tarantula into Jack’s place. I’m in over my head right now. More than once, I’ve wished children came with an owner’s manual.

For reassurance, I look out my bedroom window. With the lights off, my window serves as a one-way mirror. It’s near impossible for anyone from the street to see me peering out from my dark room. I have a clear view of the dirt road running in front of the cottages and of Annie walking by herself. I know the Greenwood girls grew up running around Norland Park at all hours of the night, but what kind of guy has his girlfriend walk home alone after dark? Someone who is scared of spiders, that’s who. I watch Annie until her figure disappears around the bend.

I regret my harsh words. I know I hit a sore spot when I asked if she was serious about anything. I lashed out in pain. I can’t say how hard it’s been to stand by and watch her with Jack. But I never should have said that.

There’s so much more to Annie than flirting and silly pranks. She’s serious about all the things that matter most—loving her family, finding joy, creating beauty. She does everything with love, from arranging flowers to braiding Pepper’s hair. I just wish . . . I wish so many foolish things about Annie, and right now it all feels so hopeless.

***

“You can’t make breakfast,” Pepper says as she enters the cottage kitchen to find me mixing batter.

“I believe what you meant to say is, ‘Wow! Dad! Thanks for making pancakes!’”

“You do make good pancakes. But it’s our first full day at Norland Park, and I need to see everyone and catch up on the gossip with J.J.”

“I’m not so sure about you talking to J.J.”

“Is this about the shirtless comment?”