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“Right?” I take another glass of wine, sloshing some burgundy onto my shirt. “Fudge.”
“How was it? When you told him?”
I pause before answering Max’s fury unnerved me. The anger I saw was quiet, measured.
“It was awful,” I say. “He was shocked, to say the least. He asked me why I didn’t tell him.”
Caroline leans back and taps her fingernails onto the table. “Does his stepdad know he’s here?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t get that far.” I stare at my table, the knots in the wood. “This was not what I expected when I got up this morning.”
“Does Burke know?”
“About Max? In very broad strokes. Thankfully, I pushed Max out of the brewery before there was any serious questions. Burke didn’t ask or anything, and my family wouldn’t have clued him in.”
“I’m glad we stayed friends, because your life is so fun to watch.”
“Shut up,” I say with a groan. “This whole situation is utterly ridiculous.”
“You’re telling me.” Caroline looks around the kitchen. “I trust you, Em, when you say he isn’t dangerous, but let’s wedge some chairs under the doorknobs, just in case.”
“I am nowhere near ready for sleep. Let’s booby-trap this whole house, like Kevin in Home Alone.”
“Let’s do it.” Caroline’s smile fades as she stares at the same spot on my table. “How are you? Really? How do you feel?”
A tear leaks from my eye, and I swipe it away. “I finally felt like I stopped hoping he would change his mind. About us.” My voice lowers to a whisper. “Olive deserves to meet him. It’s just… It’s a lot.”
Caroline says nothing as she takes me in her arms.
My phone buzzes on the table. I turn it over and my heart clenches.
Max: I want to bring Olive a present tomorrow. What does she like?
I show Caroline the text message.
“This is going to be rough,” Caroline says, sitting back. “I don’t envy you.”
“I don’t envy me either.” I type something quickly and tell him to meet us at the brewery tomorrow afternoon at three. Going to sleep tonight will be impossible.
“I brought an expensive bottle of wine,” Caroline says, pulling it out of her duffel.
“We’re going to need it.”
8
Max
I’ve paced the length of this tiny house at least a hundred times. The structure moves with my steps as I walk back and forth. Knowing my daughter is yards from me is excruciating, even worse than knowing Emily is in there too.
When I woke up this morning and impulsively thought to visit Goldheart, I could’ve never anticipated all of this.
I’m a father, and I didn’t know it. I missed the opportunity to see Emily grow with our child. I missed ultrasound appointments and hearing the baby’s heartbeat. I missed her birth. I missed everything. Most of my friends back home have kids already, but their kids are younger, not nine-year-olds. I have no idea what nine-year-olds like or what they’re into.
Every time I pass my phone, I pause. It feels wrong to miss nine years and not arrive with a peace offering, although she won’t know who I really am at first.
I want to make a good impression. I want her to like me.
I pick up my phone and shoot a text about bringing a present. My hands itch to push the white curtains with tiny daisies away from the window to look at the main house, wondering where Olive is. There’s lights on in the kitchen and one light on the second story. She could be in either. I saw a car arrive and then leave just after another car arrived. It was too dark to see who it was, but it looked like a woman leaving and coming.
