Page 96 of Wildflowers and Wide Receivers

She gasps. I can tell she’s not certain if she’s supposed to be happy for me or upset.

“He found out because I left the offer letter and a flier lying on the kitchen table.”

“But didn’t he know that has always been your goal, to end up back there with your dad?”

“Nope. It wasn’t that I was withholding it from him, I just never had anything to tell him. When I saw him at the beach, I had already inquired to see if there was an opening, and nothing was happening between us. Then suddenly it was. And then I received an email asking for an interview. So I went, and here we are now. All of it happened so fast.”

“So what are you going to do?” she asks, moving toward the living room and I follow.

It’s funny, after speaking with my dad, I realize I always thought of Minnesota as my home, but it’s not. My singular focus for so long has been to get back there, and to be with him. He’s right, it was the safe and easy choice. But, if I’m to really break down that thought of home, at the core of it, what I wanted was to be with my dad, my family. It really had nothing to do with Minnesota. If he had moved, I would have sought a job in the new city, not Minnesota.

Family.

Family of five.

For so long, I’ve traveled on the path I designed for myself and the one I knew. And if another path popped up at any point in time, regardless of how good it sounded, I refused to take it. It wasn’t worth the risk.

But they aren’t a risk. They are so much more than that.

And the thought of leaving Jonah and Vivi nearly breaks me. Why would I break my own heart when I can have everything that I want right here? And I know without a doubt that if Jonah and I had been together this whole time, the past two and a half years, I wouldn’t be trying to move. I would be here with them . . . indefinitely.

I look at Camille as we settle onto the couch and smile. “I have a plan.”

Chapter 39

Jonah

Over the past couple of days, I’ve done nothing but dread tonight.

Not because I don’t want to see her, I absolutely do. But I know that tonight will most likely be our make-or-break night. We have to have the tough conversation about where we’re going, if anywhere at all.

“It smells good in here,” I tell her after she opens the door for me. I lean in to kiss her on the cheek and follow her inside.

“Thanks,” she says, making her way toward the kitchen table. The same table that might inadvertently be changing my life.

I do love her place. Whereas some might expect it to be super feminine, it’s anything but. She has stormy-gray and dark-wood furniture, a white and stainless-steel kitchen, wrought-iron barstools, huge television on the wall, and shelves overflowing with books. So many books.

Trendy country music plays over the speakers, and it’s not lost on me that she remembers I said I love it at the beach.

“Growing up, there were several things my mom made that I loved, so my dad and I have been trying to perfect them over the years. I know you are particular about what you eat, so I skipped the tater tot hotdish and made the wild rice and chicken soup instead. Seems healthier, but I did buy bread to go with it, and I made you a bundt cake.” She smiles at me sheepishly.

“A bundt cake?” I ask as I take a seat at the table and run my hands over my thighs to dry them. I don’t eat a lot of sweets, but for her I would eat anything. My nerves are all over the place, and as much as I tell myself it’s all going to be okay, I can’t help but feel anxious.

“Yeah.” She grins. “It’s the official cake of Minnesota.” She picks it up off the kitchen counter and brings it over to the table.

“Okay. Never met a cake I haven’t liked.” I smile at her.

“There’s a salad for you too. I’ve seen you eat before, but I wasn’t sure if the soup and the cake would be enough.”

“Thank you, it’s all perfect,” I tell her, when really I have zero appetite and don’t want to eat at all.

She takes a seat next to me, and I look around at all of the thoughts and details she put into tonight. The table is decorated with placemats, chargers, pretty napkins, two glasses of wine, water, fresh flowers, and candles. She’s wearing a cute navy-and-white-patterned dress that’s a little loose and has three-quarter sleeves. Her hair is styled and down, and she has on a full face of makeup. I’m thinking I’m not the only one who’s nervous.

“How’s Vivi been the rest of the week?” she asks as she picks up my bowl to ladle me some of the soup.

“Okay, actually.” She sets the bowl back in front of me. “She bounced back pretty quick, and I’m certain that has a lot to do with you.”

Her eyes connect with mine, and she lets out a deep breath. “Good, I was worried about her. Where is she tonight?”