I smile. “That’s one of the best ones.”
She looks up, shuts the book, and shrugs. “I like Calvin and Hobbes better.”
“And that is your prerogative.”
“What does that mean? Like pierogis? Because those are good.” She slides out of the chair where she’s been quietly reading since my sister picked her up from school and dropped her at my regular Upper East Side office an hour ago.
“‘Prerogative’ means choice. It’s your choice to like what you like,” I say, grabbing my cell and tucking it into the pocket of my slacks.
She nods. “I don’t think I want to use that word for a while though. It’s too hard to say.”
“Confession—it’s a little hard for me to say too.”
“Nothing’s hard for you,” she says as we leave the office and head to the elevator.
“That’s not true at all.”
“What’s hard for you?” she asks as she presses the button for the lobby. “Not tying your shoes.”
“True. I mastered that a while ago.”
“Not reading. You’re good at that,” she points out as the car arrives and we step inside.
I want to tell her all the things that have been hard for me. Trust would be top of the list. Believing in second chances. Letting go of my armor.
But I’ve done all that lately. Thanks to my friends and their support, thanks to my daughter and her attitude, and most recently, thanks to Bryn and her big heart and wonderful soul.
That’s why the next thing I have to do is easy.
When Amelia and I head for Central Park, away from the noise of the cars and cabs, where buses fade to a background hum, I clear my throat. “So, there’s someone I want you to meet later this week.”
Her big brown eyes sparkle, and her mouth forms an O. “Is it the author we wrote to? Is she giving her cats superpowers? That would be amazing.”
I laugh, squeezing her hand as we head to the playground. “That would be amazing, and we will keep the dream alive. But . . .” I pause briefly to see if nerves descend on me, if worry grips me. But neither arrive. I only feel good about this decision. Bryn and I have been texting and talking the last few days, and this next step feels right. Just as I want our relationship in the open, I want my daughter to know what’s making me so happy. “I met someone I like.”
Amelia furrows her brow. “Like, an author? Or a cartoonist?”
Okay, maybe it’s not completely easy. “A woman. A woman I like. I’m dating someone.”
“Oh. Is she nice?” Amelia says, asking the simplest of questions.
I give the simplest of answers. “She’s great. She’s kind and smart and funny, and she loves cats. And I’d like for you to meet her.”
Amelia smiles. “She sounds cool. You should give her a gift. I like gifts. I’m going to go on the swings now. Bye.”
And she runs off to the playground a few feet away.
Well, I guess that was easy.
As she pumps her feet to get the swing going, I send a text to Bryn.
Logan: Amelia says you sound cool. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Bryn: She’s correct. I am cool. Also, same to you. :)
Then, an idea pops into my head, and I know an excellent gift for Bryn.
29BRYN
As the wheels touch down on the tarmac, I stretch my neck from side to side, grateful to be back in New York a little earlier than expected on Wednesday.
While we taxi, I turn my phone back on, and the emails slide into my inbox like coins in a slot machine.
I cruise through as many as I can, replying to my friend Paisley about her blog, then spot one that makes me sit up and actually say oh out loud. It’s from Hadley, the former owner of The Dating Pool. She’s asking if I’ll take a look at her new blog about amusement parks. You’ve always had such great insight on what works. Blinking, I click on the link, surprised she came to me for advice.
Surprised and impressed. It’s more than a little blog about rides. It’s a whole travel site, with road trips and suggestions, and it’s utterly delightful, but it needs some work to iron out the clunkiness.
I send a quick reply telling her I’ll send her details later, but I’m grateful she asked.
Then, as the plane rolls to a stop, I spot a new text.
Logan: Any chance you could be free tonight? Casey has a thing tomorrow and wants to see if we can meet this evening instead. Also, hope you had a safe flight, sweetheart. And I can’t wait to get you on your knees, rope my fingers in your hair, and tug it hard while I fuck you to many, many orgasms. <3
I laugh privately, a burst of naughty tingles rushing through my body.
Bryn: You are filthy, sweet, and businesslike all in one text.
Logan: I am a multitasking master.
