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I wish he was too.
He pauses before he continues. “Noelle is staying for a little bit. Do you know of a place that will be available for us to stay?”
“She can stay at the tiny house with you, if you want,” I say. Be cool, Emily. Be cool.
“Really? Is that okay? I just thought it was weird.”
“It’s fine.” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “She can come to dinner tonight. I’ll invite Burke so it’s not awkward. Did you tell her about Olive?”
“I did.”
“Good. She knows we’re not telling her right away, right?”
“I told her to keep it a secret. Noelle won’t say anything.”
“Okay, great. Can’t wait to meet her,” I say, although it feels weird to act okay with this. It would be weird if it was not weird. “Six thirty? Just come to the back door.”
“Okay. Looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” I say.
There’s a pause, and I pull my phone away. The call is still active. I can hear Max’s breath over the phone.
“Olive is extraordinary. You did a great job. I’m really glad I came,” he says. Tears go away, stay away. Max pauses again, then says, “We’ll see you tonight.”
“Great,” I say. We say goodbye and hang up the phone. I walk into the living room, but Olive doesn’t look up from her book.
“Honey, Max is coming to dinner tonight with his girlfriend, Noelle. I’m going to ask Burke to come over too, if that’s okay.”
“Fine, Mom,” she says, barely looking up from her book.
“How did you like Max?”
“He’s nice,” she says. Olive clutches the stuffed animal tighter. At the brewery, she was super excited for him to come to dinner. I’m not sure if she’s bummed Burke is coming or Max is.
“Okay, well, what should we have?”
“Spaghetti. With garlic bread.”
“Sure,” I say, leaning against the wall and folding my arms. “I love you, you know.”
“Love you too, Mom.” She props the book on her lap and her eyes hone in on the words.
Olive is turning into a little adult before my eyes. I blinked, and she was this big.
For all these years, I thought Max didn’t want to be a father. However, the way he looked at her, laughed at her jokes, held her a beat longer when she hugged him gives me small hope that he regrets the decision he made all those years ago.
In my heart, I want to believe he wished he was here from the beginning.
But my heart has been wrong before.
11
Max
Nine-and-a-half Years Ago
“Where are you? I’m making pot roast for dinner tonight,” Mom said on the phone as I drove into Goldheart town limits, through bare trees and wheat-colored fields. Class released for the holidays, and instead of driving south home to San Diego, I drove east, past Sacramento to Goldheart.
