Page 126 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Monroe had breezed into town with the singular objective of making sure that Maisie was safe propelling her forward.

And, suddenly, she looked around, and she had this whole life.

She’d known that she was letting Blake get close. Had told Blake as much.

But every decision she’d made had felt like it was safe enough. Small enough. Controlled enough.

Well, she definitely didn’t feel in control now.

Denny appeared next to her and slid into the booth without a word. He knew that she was wrestling with something, and Monroe appreciated that, even though she knew that it would be short-lived, he was giving her the time to think it through on her own.

She nodded, her choices battling for dominance before one won out.

Yep. It was settled.

She was going to drag Blake out somewhere tomorrow night and see what happened.

“Maisie,” she called, just as the game was about to start up again. “Can you come here for a sec?”

Maisie turned around and hopped down from the stool she’d been standing on to reach the joysticks and buttons. She pattered over excitedly. “Did ya see me shoot ‘em, Aunt Monroe?”

“I sure did,” Monroe said as she eased deeper into the booth to make room for Maisie to join them. “I have a question for you.”

Maisie looked up at her with big, unblinking eyes. “Wassat?” she asked, grabbing an errant fry from Monroe’s plate.

Denny looked at her with interest, but he didn’t speak.

“How would you like to hang out with Denny tomorrow night?” she asked, trying not to feel too hopeful. Maisie had come a long way, but she was still in a delicate place.

If she didn’t want Monroe to go, then she wouldn’t. Simple as that.

Maisie looked over at Denny, studying him. “Can we play Barbies?”

“Absolutely,” he affirmed, a huge grin on his face.

“Can I do your makeup?”

“Only if I can do yours, too.”

She looked back at Monroe solemnly. “And you’ll come back?” she asked, her voice almost inaudible through the ambient noise.

“I promise you that I’ll be back. Always.” She’d rather cut off an appendage than lie to Maisie. She didn’t know where along the line that had happened exactly, but looking down at her, eyes big and trusting, there was nothing in the world more important than keeping her promises to this little girl.

Maisie squinted at Denny again. “What are you gonna feed me?”

Denny was looking toward Monroe when he asked, “Maybe we can order pizza?”

Very seriously, Maisie stuck her hand as far across the table as it could reach. “Deal,” she said, unable to hide her excitement.

God, did Monroe miss the days of losing her mind over something as simple as getting to eat pizza.

Like aunt, like niece, apparently.

Maybe Blake would be busy, and this would all be for nothing.

Either way, she had a text to send when they got home.

Monroe Lockhart - 8:22 p.m.