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“Can we get pizza delivered?”
A sharp pain pierced my heart. Pizza was one of her favorite comfort foods. I knew she was trying to be brave, but her father’s email was getting to her.
“Absolutely. Do you want to call and order?”
She shimmied off the bed, and I stood, following her out toward the living room. Phone in hand, she nodded. “Of course.”
A pizza place only a few blocks away was always quick with delivery. Quinn ordered our favorite—half pepperoni and half Greek. While I emptied the dishwasher, she sat at the kitchen table, opening her laptop and starting her homework.
I was going to check that email later and decide whether to email her dad myself. Just as I thought I wouldn’t bother talking about it again, I decided I needed to tell her I might do that. I knew trying to keep it from her wouldn’t be a good plan because she’d probably find out.
“Sweetie,” I began, turning after I put away the last dish. She glanced up from her laptop, her hands stilling on the keyboard. I continued, “Can you forward me that email?”
Quinn was silent for a second, and I was afraid she was annoyed, or even angry, that I was injecting myself between them. After a few beats, she shrugged. “Sure. I figured you’d want to see it. Are you going to reply to him?”
“I’m not sure. I might. If I do, I promise I’ll tell you, and I’ll show you what I say,” I said carefully.
She blinked, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “Okay.”
Later that night, after we enjoyed pizza and Quinn went to bed, I leaned my head against my headboard, contemplating asking Noah for his opinion on what to do about Quinn’s father reaching out to her. While I craved some feedback because the entire situation felt fraught, the idea made me nervous for reasons I didn’t quite understand. I finally concluded it was because I was so accustomed to doing all of this alone.
I lifted my phone off the nightstand beside my bed, quickly texting Noah. I really needed some advice, and I trusted him.
Me:Quinn’s father emailed her. I don’t know what to think. I need someone to tell me to be reasonable and not panic about this.
My thumbs hovered over the screen as I hesitated to hit send. As if my thumb knew better than my brain, it tapped the send button before I could dwell on it.
Lowering the phone, I let it fall to my lap. Seconds later, I felt the vibration on my side and glanced down to see Noah was calling me. I experienced a rushed mix of emotions. Relief because I really needed some advice, joy because he reached out that quickly, and a subtle hum of anxiety. Not specifically of Noah, but about letting anyone matter too much.
I swiped my thumb across the screen and lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey. What are you doing?”
The warm lilt in his voice curled around my heart, easing the thrumming tension. A tension I’d been holding tightly inside ever since Quinn told me her father had emailed her.
“Trying not to overthink,” I said flatly and honestly, letting out a frazzled sigh.
“When did he email her?”
Noah’s tone shifted to solemn and serious, and I could practically feel the gears turning in his brain.
“Just today. She forwarded it to me. Do you want me to send it to you?”
“That would be—” He paused abruptly. “I’d like for you to send it to me, but I want to make sure that’s okay with Quinn.”
Impatience jostled in my thoughts, followed immediately by gratitude. Wow. This man was already knocking down my defenses. To have him consider my daughter’s feelings first, well, it just made me feel all gooey and warm inside.
“You’re too good,” I finally said softly.
“I’m practical,” he said with a low chuckle. “I can imagine she’d be furious if it wasn’t okay with her. But tell me what it said.”
“Give me a sec.”
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I snagged my earbuds where they sat on my nightstand and put them in before plugging them in to the phone, so I could talk and listen while I pulled up my email.
A moment later, I read the email aloud to him.
Hi Quinn. It’s your father. I know you haven’t heard from me, and I can imagine you’re wondering why I’m reaching out now. I want to meet you, if only to apologize for not being involved in your life up to this point. You can reach me at this email or this phone number.
