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“So,” Jamie said, tapping her fingertips on the table. “Is he, like, divorced? Where’s the mom?”
“I don’t know,” I said, my thoughts drifting to the sweet way Mason interacted with his daughter that night. It was easy to tell they had a close bond. While it hadn’t been the first time a father brought his child to an event alone, it wasn’t very common.
Something about the way there was not a single mention of a mom in Finley’s paperwork led me to believe there was a sad backstory there—and I was dying to find out what it was.
chapter six
mason
Since I’d moved away from Woodvale shortly after high school, the town had been making a lot of efforts in trying to be something it wasn’t: a tourist city. The only thing it had going for it was being the home of an inn where Abraham Lincoln once stayed during his lawyer days. The city leaders milked that little factoid for all its worth, touting the town’s connection to Lincoln at every opportunity. They made it seem like Woodvale was so charming, Lincoln just couldn’t resist coming for a visit—when in reality, he was just passing through.
As I sat by the river on Sunday morning, answering some client emails on my phone while waiting on Finley, I couldn’t help but sort of admire the new riverwalk. When I left Woodvale nine years ago, this was all just grass—a dead-end at the end of Main Street. Now there was a wide, winding path along the river with a bike lane, swinging benches, and, of course, a statue of ol’ Abe himself.
It was all so new, it almost made me forget I was in the town I once couldn’t wait to get away from.
I sat on one of the swings with my phone in my lap, trying to decipher the latest email from one of the most troublesome clients I’d had yet—and this man was just the latest in a string of picky, hard-to-please people who couldn’t fully grasp the difference between illustration and graphic design.
I hated this work. Despised it. But for now, it was keeping me afloat and helping me build up a savings so I could get Finley and me out of my parents’ house. Eventually.
Thoughts of Kendall kept pulling me away from my phone screen. Friday night, the night I’d been looking forward to, had come and gone, and we didn’t get together. Because we couldn’t.
It was probably for the best it worked out this way. Because after seeing her in person, I realized there was no chance—not in the slightest—I could have one night with Kendall and just move on from it. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d be easy to forget. With those eyes, and that ass? I’d willingly let that woman shatter me into a million pieces and thank her afterwards. So maybe her being Finley’s teacher was the universe’s way of protecting my heart.
My last message to her was pushing it. She never responded, either—I was afraid I’d said too much. I hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. It was all I could do not to text her again to assure her I was just kidding around and would stop the flirty comments, but I feared I would only make the situation worse. It was probably best to just drop it.
I was in the middle of responding to that annoying email when I heard someone ask, “Is that Mason?” I looked up to see Owen and Sarah walking my direction hand-in-hand. “It is,” Owen said when he saw my face.
“In the flesh,” I replied as they came closer. “What’s up, guys?”
“Just out for our Sunday morning walk,” Sarah said. They were both carrying coffee cups from the new café on the corner, and while most of the other walkers who passed were in gym clothes, Owen and Sarah were both in jeans. Something about going on a casual Sunday stroll by the river with the one you love seemed really sweet—and completely unattainable for me.
I was hit with a sudden pang of jealousy—these two seemed so perfect for each other. How was love like this even possible? I watched Sarah lift Owen’s hand close to her face to look at his watch, and I struggled to remember the last time a woman had been that comfortable with me.
“Where’s Finley?” Sarah asked.
“She’s with her grandma. Her, uh—other grandma, that is.”
“How’s that working out?” Owen asked.
“It’s…” I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. My mom and Owen’s mom talked on the phone a few times a week, so chances were, the drama had been passed along to Owen. He probably already knew what I’d been going through with Traci. I sat my phone on the bench beside me and stretched. “It keeps life interesting.”
“Are you ready to send her off to kindergarten tomorrow?” Sarah asked, before taking a sip of her coffee.
“Oh, God no,” I blurted, making both of them laugh. “I’ve been dreading the day all summer long.”
“Aw, she’ll be fine. She’s going to love Ms. Devin. She’s the sweetest. She was the most requested teacher this year—everyone wants her.”
I lifted my hand to pull some hair away from my face. “Yeah, she seems great.”
“When I was working on all the class rosters,” Sarah said, “I just knew Ms. Devin would be the perfect fit for your little girl.”
I met her eyes for a second—she had no idea, no idea at all, how that little decision she’d made had impacted me so much. “Thank you,” I somehow managed to say. “Sounds like Finley’s lucky to have her.”
Owen glanced out at the river as he sipped his coffee, still holding Sarah’s hand in his. He cleared his throat, turning back to me. “So, with Finley starting school, you’ll have more time to take on clients now, won’t you?”
“Looks like it, yeah,” I said with a nod. “How’s STEM for the Win?”
“Keeping me busy,” Owen said. “Working on book number two.”
