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“I bet she would taste so sweet,” I say, joining in to tickle her. “We can stick her on a graham cracker with some chocolate.”
“No way!” She shrieks. “I’m not a marshmallow!” She giggles as Pierce and I tickle her some more. “Stop it!” She laughs, her arms and legs flailing around. “I’m not a marshmallow. I’m a person!”
“Oh,” Pierce says in mock confusion. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she tells him, her tone exasperated. “That’s not what I wanted you to guess.”
“Oh,” he says again. “Okay, so what’s up?”
“Tilly’s grandma…”
“Marta,” I correct.
“Yeah, her! She said Tilly and I can have a snow party at her house tonight ’cause there’s no school tomorrow. Can I go, please?” Jordan begs, laying it on thick by popping her bottom lip out and batting her lashes.
“What’s a snow party?” I ask.
“A party for snow!” Jordan says, like it’s obvious.
“Okay…” I start, a bit confused, but Jordan hears the word and shrieks in excitement, mistaking my okay for yes.
“Thank you, Mommy!” She leaps into my arms and hugs me. Then she takes off outside before I can even get a word in edgewise.
“What the heck just happened?” I ask.
“You agreed for Jordan to spend the night with my mom.” Pierce smirks, and something tells me this was a setup. And then my thoughts are confirmed when he adds, “Which means we get to have a snow party as well…in my bed.”
After learning a snow party is a pajama party that includes the movie Frozen, snacks, and building a fort in the living room, followed by waking up in the morning and playing in the snow—AKA Marta’s sweet way of giving both her sons a night alone with their women—we say good night to everyone and head back to Pierce’s house.
As we step inside, Cinder runs past us straight to her food and water. I remove my jacket, hang it on the coat rack, then sit on the bench so I can take off my boots.
When I stand, I take a moment to look around Pierce’s home with new eyes. Now that he’s made it clear he wants Jordan and me to move in with him, I try to imagine this as our home, and surprisingly, it comes quite easily. The living room is all brown leather and wood, giving it a cozy look. The walls are a bit bare. I can picture family portraits lining the walls: Jordan’s school pictures, family vacations, wedding photos, if we have a baby…
The kitchen is beautiful with state-of-the-art appliances that would make cooking meals and feeding my family easy, even pleasant.
The dining room table seats six people, and it makes me wonder how many kids Pierce wants. Does he want to fill the house with babies, or is he more of a “family of four” type of guy? I can see us sitting at the table with our kids, eating dinner and discussing our day.
My thoughts go back to the last time I saw Trent—at the table, talking about our day—and a wave of guilt washes over me for a second because he’s gone, and I’m alive. I get a future while his life has ended. He’ll never have his career, a family, or a chance to live, love, and be happy.
As if Pierce can feel the shift in my energy, he wraps his arms around me from behind, nuzzling his face into my hair. “What’s going through that head of yours?” he murmurs. “I can practically hear the cogs turning.”
“Trent,” I admit with a humorless chuckle.
I expect Pierce to make a sarcastic comment about the fact that I’m thinking about another man in his home, but I should know better since that’s not the type of person Pierce is. He’s kind, gentle, and patient.
And he proves that once again, when he turns me around and, still holding me, swipes a tear away. “What about him?” he asks, his tone tender.
“He never got a chance to be happy.” I sniffle, more tears sliding down my cheeks.
“I don’t believe that,” he says with conviction. “I might not have known him, but with you and Jordan by his side, it would’ve been impossible for him not to be happy.”
“He had school and work. He was doing his best to take care of us, but it was a lot. My parents cut me off when I refused to have an abortion, and his parents wouldn’t help with anything other than his school. We were young and raising a baby. We were both tired and stressed a lot of the time. I kept telling him that it would pass. He would graduate, and we would start our life together. Except he never graduated.”
The tears fall harder, and I release a choked sob. “He’s gone, his life is over, and I’m still here. For so long, I was going through the motions, only focused on Jordan and trying to stay afloat. I think a part of me didn’t want to date because I felt guilty. How could I possibly move forward when Trent didn’t get to? Then you showed up. I’m feeling so much, and for the first time, I can imagine it: the family, the love, the happiness… And I want it,” I whisper. “But I’m afraid.”
