“Thanks.” I smiled and glanced up at the sky, taking a deep breath of cool autumn air. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“Win, I’m curious. If Dex had asked you not to take this job and make this move, would you have stayed?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” I thought for a moment. “But it would have been nice to know that he felt strongly enough to ask for something big and crazy like that.” I laughed. “That’s how I want to be loved—big and crazy. Because that’s how I love.”
She nodded. “I know. Drive carefully, okay? And text me all the time.”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She blew me a kiss, and I drove away.
The next morning, I left my parents’ house bright and early, kissing them goodbye and setting out for my new life, determined to leave my broken heart behind.
Twenty-Five
Dex
The crunching woke me even before the shit-talking.
Through the haze of a dream—in which I was trying to climb a tree to rescue Freddie Purrcury, who just kept jumping from branch to branch—I heard the crackle of a bag and then loud munching. Were those little shitheads eating chips for breakfast?
“Daddy’s earlobes are funny. Don’t you think?” Crunch, crunch, crunch.
“Funny like how?” Luna asked.
“I don’t know.” Hallie stuck something in her mouth and spoke around it. “They’re just so big and lobey.”
Luna giggled. “Yeah.”
More crackling of the bag. More crunching. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I felt some crumbs drop onto my chest.
“Hallie, look what you did. You got Cheetos in Daddy’s chest hair.”
I felt someone blowing on me. “Now they’re gone.”
“No. You missed some. Right there, it’s orange. See?”
“Be careful, Luna. You’re gonna drip.”
That’s when I felt a cold splat on my belly.
I opened my eyes and saw a purple blob at the top of my abs. “What the hell is that?”
“It’s jelly from my toast.” Luna leaned over and slurped it up like an anteater. “Sorry.”
“Jesus Christ.” I looked at Hallie, who held a bag of Cheetos. Her fingers were coated with bright orange. “Is that supposed to be your breakfast?”
She shrugged. “I was hungry.”
“Your sister made toast. You couldn’t at least pour cereal?”
“She didn’t make toast, she dumped grape jelly on a piece of bread.”
“I was scared to use the toaster,” Luna confirmed with her mouth full.
I dropped my head back onto the pillow. “What time is it?”
“It’s after seven. We got an email from Winnie, want to hear it?”
No, I didn’t. Just hearing her name was hard enough. She’d been gone for ten days, and it seemed like she’d been on my mind for every minute of them. Every time I thought about her, my chest hurt. I’d picked up my phone to call her a thousand times, but hearing her voice wasn’t going to make me miss her less. I thought about texting, but it seemed selfish—she’d asked for time, and I wanted to give it to her.
Plus, I didn’t exactly trust myself not to say something crazy.
I’m an idiot. Come back. I love you. Stay with me.
But I was desperate for news about her too. Was she okay? How was her new apartment? Her new job? Did she love it? Did she miss home? Did she miss me? Every time I thought of her in that soft white sweater, I pined for her a little more. Was it possible I’d never hold her in my arms again?
“Can you read it to me?” I asked.
Hallie went to get her iPad, and Luna wiped her sticky hands on her nightgown. “I got some jelly on the counter,” she told me. “And on the floor.”
“Great.”
“And Freddie Purrcury stepped in it.”
I frowned. “Even better.”
Hallie returned, carrying her iPad instead of her Cheetos. “Dear Hallie and Luna,” she read. “I was so happy to get your email and the photos you sent. You did a great job painting your nails! I miss playing salon with you too. My new job is keeping me very busy. I meet lots of new people every day. Piglet misses you too. She isn’t used to our new home yet, and I think she is mad at me about the move. But it’s very nice, even if my next-door neighbors are not as fun as you. You asked when I was coming home for a visit, and the answer is next weekend. I will be there from Friday to Sunday for a work event at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t know if you will be with your mom or your dad, but let me know and maybe we can work something out. After that, I am not sure when I will be home next. Write back soon and send me more pictures. Here is one for you. Love, Winnie.”
“Did she send you a picture?” I asked, desperate to see her face.
“Yes.” Hallie showed me the screen, and my heart lurched at the sight of Winnie’s deep blue eyes, soft smile, and pink cheeks. She held Piglet, who looked about as happy to be in the photo as I felt staring at it. Something the size of a golf ball was lodged in my throat.
“Where are we next weekend, Daddy?” Luna asked. “Can we see her?”
“Uh . . .” I had to think. “That’s your mom’s wedding.”
“But that’s Saturday,” Hallie said. “Couldn’t we see her Friday when she gets here? Or Sunday, the day after?”
“Maybe.” I tried to swallow and couldn’t. “I’ll—I’ll text her and find out when she gets in. I also need to check with Mom about the wedding schedule.”
“Okay. Can we go out for breakfast?”
“I guess.” But I didn’t want to go anywhere. I just wanted to stay in bed, stare at her photo, and feel sorry for myself.
“Can we go to Winnie’s bakery?”
“Can’t we go somewhere else?”
“No, that’s our favorite place on Saturday mornings.” Luna giggled. “You still have Cheeto dust in your chest hair.”
Dropping my chin, I gave her my best grumpy Dad face. “Go get dressed, and put that nightgown in your laundry basket. It’s got jelly all over it.”
“Can you text Winnie right now and ask about the weekend?” Hallie pleaded.
“No.” I needed to think about exactly what I was going to say to her. “I want to talk to Mom first. I’ll do that when I drop you guys off today. Now go get dressed.”
That afternoon, after hugging the girls goodbye in the driveway, I asked Naomi if she had a minute.
“Sure.” She sent the girls into the house with instructions to clean their messy rooms, and turned back to me with her arms folded. “What’s up?”
“Winnie is going to be in town next weekend, and the girls want to know if there’s any time they can see her.”
Naomi sighed. “Next weekend is going to be really busy with the wedding.”
“I know. I can tell them it won’t work.”
“No, no, don’t do that. They talk about her all the time, and they’ll be sad if they miss her visit completely.” A chill October wind blew her hair across her forehead, and she tucked it behind her ear. “How long will she be here?”
“Friday to Sunday.”
“Is she staying with you?”
I made a face like the question was crazy. “No! I have no idea where she’s staying. Why would she be staying with me?”
“Take it easy.” Naomi held up her hands. “The way the girls have talked about the situation, I sort of thought you might be more than friends.”
“Well, we’re not. She’s not in town to see me.”
My ex studied me carefully. “But you care about her.”
I closed my eyes. Clenched my jaw. “Naomi, don’t.”
“Dex, come on. Don’t get mad. In the two years since we split up, the girls have never once mentioned a female friend, and after she came around, it was nothing but Winnie this and Winnie that. It’s obvious she was around a lot.”
“She was,” I admitted.
“It’s okay. It’s not like I expected you to be alone forever. And yo
u’ve always been very accepting of my relationship with Bryce.”
“Me being alone forever is a lot more likely than a relationship with Winnie.”
“Why?”
I scowled at her. “Why do you even care?”
“Because I care about you, Dex.” She poked a finger at my chest. “Maybe you find this hard to believe, but I do actually want you to be happy. It’s true that our marriage didn’t work, and I don’t think you tried hard enough to save it, but I don’t believe it’s because you weren’t capable. That’s what drove me crazy all the time. You could be a good partner to someone—if you let them in.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “You should know better than anyone, that isn’t my thing.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.” She sighed. “But maybe you and I were just the wrong fit. Maybe I was never going to get over feeling shut out. Maybe your emotional baggage and mine were always going to prevent us from giving the other what they needed. And I wasn’t going to settle for being unhappy, Dex. That’s why I asked you to leave.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened. “And you didn’t fight me.”
I shook my head.
“At the time, I was hurt, but I came to accept that we were better off apart. And now I found someone who can give me what I need.”
“I’m glad for you,” I said, and I meant it.
She smiled. “Thanks. And we’ll figure out something for that weekend. I need them Friday for the rehearsal and Saturday is the wedding, but I was going to have my mom take them back to her house at maybe ten or so. They’ll be tired.”
“Why don’t I just pick them up from the reception?”
“That works. Let’s say ten-thirty in the lobby of the yacht club?”
I nodded. “I have to work Monday, so I’ll have them back Sunday evening.”
“Okay. Thanks again for letting me have them during your weekend. If you’d like them for an overnight during your off days this week, just let me know. We can work it out.”
I thought for a moment. “I have some coaching sessions Monday and Wednesday, but Tuesday would work.”
She smiled. “Perfect. I’ll tell them you’ll pick them up from school. Oh—they have dentist appointments that day. I think at four-ten and four-forty.”
I took out my phone and put the appointments in. “Got it. They’ll be there.”
“Good.” She paused. “I wasn’t going to say anything about this, but I ran into your sister the other day and she told me about your dad. That’s . . . that’s tough. And I’m sorry.”
I adjusted the cap on my head, feeling guilty because I still hadn’t talked things out with Bree. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Are you going to see him?”
“I don’t think so.”
She nodded. “I get it.”
“Do you think I’m being too harsh?” I asked. Naomi had been around since high school and all through my mom’s illness, so she knew the history.
Exhaling, she lifted her shoulders. “I think you have a powerful sense of right and wrong, and you’ve always known which side of the line he’s on. But I also know that letting go of painful shit from the past feels better than hanging on to it.”
“Yeah.” I hefted my keys in my hand, impatient to leave. “I’m still thinking about it.”
“Good luck. And Dex . . .” She put a hand on my arm. “I know your first instinct is to shut down when things get emotional, but don’t shut Bree out. She’s worried about you.”
I stiffened, annoyed even though I knew she was right. “I know. I’ll talk to her.”
Twenty minutes later, I knocked on Bree’s back door. Justin pulled it open, holding Prescott over his shoulder. “You knock now?”
“Wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome.” I rubbed my jaw. “Last time I was here, there was some, uh, shouting.”
He shrugged. “Family shouts sometimes. Come on in.”
Their house smelled delicious, and something about it reminded me of childhood. I messed around with my nephew Peter in the family room for a few minutes, then took Prescott from Justin and held him out from me. “Hey, buddy.” He made a gurgling noise and smiled at me.
“Good, he likes you.” Justin sank onto the couch. “How about you carry him around for a while? Every time I put him down, he screams.”
“I’ll take him.” I actually liked holding babies. They were so tiny yet chubby at the same time, and they fit right in the crook of my arm. And they never shit-talked.
I tucked Prescott against my side and ventured into the kitchen. Bree, stirring mushrooms on the stove, looked over at me. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for dinner?”
“If I’m invited.”
“Of course you’re invited. I’m making Mom’s stroganoff.”
“That’s what it is.” I inhaled deeply. “Mmm. I haven’t had stroganoff in years.”
She turned the heat off under the pan and scooped the sautéed mushrooms into a big blue pot. “I don’t make it too often, but I was in the mood for it. I’ve been thinking about Mom lately.”
Prescott started to fuss, so I put him over my shoulder and patted his back. “Did you see Dad again?”
She began filling another pot with water. “Yes. I saw him last Sunday. And I’ll see him next Saturday—a week from today.”
“How is he?”
Placing the pot on the stove, she shrugged. “Sick. The visits aren’t long. But I brought Justin and the boys last time.”
“He never mentioned it.”
“I asked him not to.” She turned on the gas under the water. “It upsets you.”
I took a breath. “I’m sorry about that. I lost my temper the last time I was here.”
“You did,” she agreed, “but I shouldn’t have provoked you that way. I know it’s a sensitive subject.”
“Which subject? Dad? Or Winnie?”
“Both.” She turned to face me, one hand on her hip. “Is she gone?”
Stroking Prescott’s back, I sniffed his head—he smelled like baby shampoo. “Yes.”
“Are you guys . . .” She struggled for a word. “Friends?”
“Not exactly. I apologized for what I said, but she asked for time.”
Bree nodded. “That’s understandable. She must have been really hurt.”
“She was.” My stomach hollowed out all over again. “But I told her what I said wasn’t the truth.”
“What is the truth?”
“The truth is probably closer to what you said.”
She was caught off guard. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Which part?”
I kissed the side of Prescott’s head. “All of it, I guess. That I felt more for Winnie than I wanted to admit. That I hated Mom for taking Dad back all the time. That I don’t like being vulnerable to other people.”
My sister looked stunned. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“Yeah, well . . . I’m stubborn.”
“So now what?”
“Now nothing. Now she’s gone.” I decided not to mention her upcoming visit just yet.
“She’s gone because you didn’t tell her how you felt. I bet she’d have reconsidered that job if she’d known.”
“She knows,” I said.
Bree’s eyebrows shot up. “You told her you loved her before she left?”
I hesitated. “Kind of. Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing.”
Her eyes bugged. “You told her you loved her and she said nothing?”
“I didn’t exactly give her a chance to reply,” I confessed. “I walked out right after.”
Bree put the heels of her hands to her forehead. “Why?”
“Because there’s nothing to be done about it,” I said, carefully keeping my volume in check. Holding a baby definitely helped.
“But Dex, you love her. Don’t you want to be with her?”
“If she was here, maybe. But I could
n’t ask her not to go. After knowing each other for six weeks? That’s insane.”
Bree parked both hands on her hips. “On our second date, Justin—”
“Yes, I know. He told you he was going to marry you. That’s insane too.”
“But it was true. Look at us now.”
“Winnie and I are different. I don’t want to marry anyone. And I don’t want more kids.”
“Yes, I can see how having more children would be terrible for you.” She gestured to Prescott. “You obviously hate babies.”
I frowned. “Look, I faced my fear, okay? I told her how I felt. It sucks that she’s so young and took a job somewhere else, but it was never going to work, she’s gone now, and I’ll be fine without her.”
She sighed, turning her attention to the water boiling on the stove. Grabbing a bag of egg noodles, she ripped it open and dumped them in. “Okay, Dex. If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Because you don’t look fine. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“I said I’ll be fine—once I stop missing her.”
She nodded but said nothing.
“What?”
“Nothing. I don’t want to argue.”
“But . . .”
“But I still think you’re throwing away something that could be great because you don’t want to risk rejection, and that hurts me to think about. But I’m not going to say anything more, because I hate when there’s weirdness between us, and the last two weeks have been weird.” She sniffed. “You’re the only brother I’ve got, and you’re always in my corner. I hope you know I’m always in yours.”
Touched, I swallowed hard. That was something our mom used to say—if you loved someone, you were in their corner. Always. “Thanks.”
Later that night, I lay in bed staring at my phone in my hands. Three times I tried to start a message to Winnie and ended up deleting every word.
Finally, I forced myself to get it done for the girls’ sake.
Hey. I hope you’re doing well. The girls read your email to me, and it sounds like everything is going great in Newport. They would like to see you next weekend while you’re in town. Unfortunately, Naomi’s wedding is that weekend, so Friday and Saturday are out. Could we meet you Sunday before you head out? Maybe at your mom’s bakery after church? No pressure. Let me know.
Ignite: A Grumpy Single Dad Romance Page 25
