Page 61 of Promise

His girls. Me and Mirabelle.

I should warn him not to love her. We haven’t discussed what Dart’s role is with Mirabelle. We haven’t discussed where we are headed, as a still-married couple.

But I’m tired of the heavy stuff.

So, I simply smile back at him, letting his claim wash over me.

His girls.

Mirabelle and me.

18

[Trinity]

It’s a beautiful day, and Mirabelle and I could use some fresh air. I decide to take a walk around downtown Rogue River.

The historic commercial district is best described as T-shaped, with the main road, Dock Street, dead-ending into an old, covered dock, freshly restored about ten years ago. The landing was once used by ferrymen who ferried people and products from one side of the wide river to the other. A bridge over the water has since been built outside of town, a few miles away.

Parallel to the river is River Street, where a large grassy strip runs the length of the road and river combination. It’s a public space with a white gazebo near a small boat launch and marina. The area is used for celebrations, such as the upcoming RiverFest.

The main area of town is full of fun restaurants, quaint boutiques, and one coffee-slash-romance bookshop.

My first destination is The Babbling Bean. The interior is a rich emerald green with one wall full of bookshelves. Mom only stocks romance novels. The front window is a boxy bay and has a long, cushioned bench with three small café tables and wrought-iron chairs, like something from a patisserie in Paris. A rectangular wooden table fills the center, allowing a party of eight or individuals to share the space. The coffee counter, as well as a countertop display case, frame the back wall. A chalkboard menu behind the counter displays the daily specials.

Mom is the only one working today, and her only customer is presently sitting on the outdoor patio in the late May sunshine.

“Hi, honey,” she greets me, but beelines for Mirabelle in the stroller, leaning in to pepper her cheeks with kisses.

“How are my girls?” she says, standing upright and wrapping her arm around me.

“We’re doing okay,” I admit. Mom and I have already talked about how hard, yet rewarding, motherhood can be. She knows I’m tired. I don’t need to tell her. But something else weighs heavier on me this week.

Or rather, someone.

“Just okay?” she asks, arching a brow before stepping behind the counter and setting to work on a coffee concoction.

“I kissed Dart.” I didn’t plan for that nugget of information to blurt out of me. I definitely didn’t foresee telling my mother. But I needed to tell someone.

She spins to face me. “Really?” Her brow arches higher along with the tone of her voice. “And how did that happen?”

My face heats. I’m not about to tell my mother how I practically forced myself on Dart, climbing into his lap and pulling him to me.

“It just happened.” I shrug.

Mom chuckles like she knows better. She finishes making a very red drink and hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I haven’t even ordered.

“I like to call it after-the-kiss glow.” She smiles.

I laugh. “Somehow I don’t think that’s really the name.”

She waves toward the rectangular table, and I adjust the stroller to take a seat. Mom sits opposite me.

“Does this mean you’re back together?” Her eyes are warm, encouraging. She’ll listen to whatever I want to share. She’ll accept any decision I make.

“We’re . . . talking.”