“That’s fine.”
No protest. No coaxing. Just a quick agreement, followed by putting my wishes into action.
Damn, that’s incredibly hot.“I really do have hours’ worth of work to do.” I cast a regretful look at my barely touched laptop.
“I’ll let you get on with things, but I’ll see you in the morning, and Zack and I will make steaks tomorrow?”
The smile that lifts my cheeks is nothing compared to the lightness lifting my heart. I gave Mercer every reason not to want to see me—and he still wants to come back. Even if we’re never more than friends, when he’s around, I genuinely feel better, and I know he’s good for Zack. “You have to promise that one of these days I get to cook for you.”
“I can’t wait. Good night, Madelyn. Is five still good for dinner tomorrow?”
“Perfect, if it fits your schedule.”
“It does. And if it didn’t, I would change my schedule.”
I just bet he would. I stand on my tiptoes and brush a little peck on his cheek.
He swivels his head and kisses my cheek in return, staying right within whatever boundaries I give. Like a gentleman.
“Good night, Mercer,” I whisper, showing him out.
I don’t get to my work until thirty minutes and one cold shower later.
Chapter Nine: Dessert
I’m not sure what Madelyn and I are, but whatever it is, I like it.
I cook steaks one night, and she makes meatloaf the next.
Swim lessons become the highlight of my morning, and I gradually wiggle my way into her trust, careful never to break it, so that when I have a day off, I come over and get Zack all to myself. We explore the backyard together, go for ice cream, build cities of blocks, color endless pictures, and read dozens of books.
Maybe I’m just the babysitter to Madelyn.
Fine, I tell myself. This is like hunting a rogue shark that preys on kraken communities. You play the long game. You take the opportunities at a moment’s notice. If I am dear to Zack first, and Madelyn second, then so be it.
But on a Tuesday night a week later, I get the feeling that perhaps I’ve been burrowing my way into Madelyn’s heart the same way she’s been growing deeper into mine.
“Allison!” Zack bounces out of my lap as we sit on the porch. Madelyn closes her laptop.
“Hi, Zack! Hi, Madelyn.” Allison approaches the gate into the backyard gingerly, as if unsure of her welcome.
Madelyn, to her credit, greets the pre-teen warmly. “Hi, Allison! I didn’t realize we were neighbors until yesterday when I saw you and your little brother making the chalk art a few houses away.”
“Yeah, practically, next door,” Allison smiles. “It’s a nice night, and my little brother got one of those balls that you throw to make ice cream. I was wondering if Zack wanted to come overand help us make some vanilla and strawberry, and then eat ice cream cones?”
Zack is already scrambling off my lap, books on dinosaurs and diggers flying. “Can I, Mommy?”
“A ball that makes ice cream?” Madelyn is intrigued.
“You have the mix in one compartment and the salt and ice inside the other, and you toss it to freeze it. You have to be really energetic.”
“Mom says I’m endergentic!” Zack hops up and down to illustrate this point.
“Well... If you have him back by seven, then yes.”
“Thank you!” Zack squeals and runs to the gate. I hoist him up and over, and look back at Madelyn.
“We’ll walk him over,” we say as one.
