I don’t deserve an apology. “It’s okay. Hey. Didn’t you say it was getting better up there? That things were getting back to normal?” I cradle my cell between my ear and shoulder and glance at the door. I wish Luke were here right now. I want the feeling that I get when our bodies are close. It’s a kind of calm I can’t manage to feel on my own.
“I guess.”
“Good. I really think they’re going to keep getting better, you know?”
Where is he?
I got to school early, expecting to see Luke before the bell. We’d fallen asleep intertwined on his couch, then woken early. I’d showered and left the house before Gwen and Waverly woke up. “And it’s only a year. It’ll go by faster than you think.”
“Maybe.” But she still sounds doubtful, and I don’t blame her. Being cooped up with our batshit crazy mother for an entire school year is more than I could handle. And Aria’s always been fragile. “Could I at least come down for Spring Break, or something?”
“Maybe.” I don’t know how I’ll be able to keep her away all year, but I’ll come up with something. “Although I’m not sure I love the idea of you prancing around Miami Beach for a week. You’re not even 18.”
“Almost,” she argues. “And besides, I don’t prance, dumbass.”
There’s a soft knock on my door, and I look up to see Luke through the glass. I grin and wave him inside.
“You’d better not be prancing up there, either,” I tease.
“Well, as long as you’re bringing it up, David and I pranced last night. Three times, actually.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Byeeee.”
I roll my eyes and end the call. “Unbelieva—”
Luke leans down and kisses me, gently teasing my tongue with his. An image from last night flashes through my mind: his face just inches from mine. His breath hot, his cheeks flushed. His dark waves suspended just above me. Remembering him this way turns me on everywhere. I want him again.
Before he pulls away, he nibbles my lower lip playfully. “Morning.” He pushes himself onto my desk. I rest my hand on his thigh.
“Morning.” My voice is raspy, my body throbbing.
“That wasn’t your other boyfriend on the phone just now, was it?”
“Which one?”
“Okay. I had that coming.” He looks adorable and more formal than usual in suit pants and a starched white button-down that’s rolled up at the sleeves.
Delicious
is the only word that does him justice. And I love that he’s wearing flip-flops with a suit.
“Not my other boyfriends. Just—” I catch myself in time. “—a friend from New York. We haven’t caught up in a while.” I hate lying to Luke, but he can’t know about Aria. Not right now, anyway. He’d have too many questions. “How come you’re so dressed up? I mean, minus the flip-flops.”
“This old thing?” He mimes adjusting a tie that isn’t there. “This is my
feeling good because I just got my world rocked by this sexy girl
outfit.”
“Outfit?”
“Whatever. Guys can say
outfit
. Actually, I’m meeting with Dr. Goodwin today. Basically, I’m going in there to beg for more money for the art department. I always like to look nice when I’m begging.”
“Your strategy’s all wrong.” I shake my head. “If you want more money, don’t you think you should go in there in crappy clothes, so he can see just how much you need it?”
“Huh.” He cocks his head to one side.
“That’s right,” I nod. “Didn’t think I was that sharp, did you?”
“I always knew you were sharp.” He hops off the desk and leans down to kiss me lightly. “What I didn’t know is how much I’d want you again after last night.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Actually, there’s something else I didn’t know.” His looks past me, at the white board, as he rubs the back of his neck. “Something I wanted to ask you.”
“Sure.”
“I, um… I have Lilah tomorrow night. And I was wondering if you maybe wanted to have dinner with us. No big deal. If you feel weird about it, it’s okay. No big deal,” he repeats.
In under a second, my body goes from completely relaxed to totally panicked.
His daughter.
He wants me to meet his daughter. I can’t do that, can I? It’s too much, too fast. What if I don’t know how to act, how to be around her? What if I fuck it up? Could it erase everything that has happened between us? Will he decide I’m not the woman he thought I was? It’s an insane thought, considering the fact that I’m not who he believes me to be anyway.
“It’s weird. You think it’s weird.” Luke exhales at the ceiling, like he’s just taken a long drag off an invisible cigarette.
“No.” I stand and wrap my arms around him, giving him what I hope is a reassuring squeeze. He returns the hug half-heartedly. But I know he can read the apprehension on my face. He knows me too well. “I just wasn’t expecting… I’m surprised. That’s all.”
“I shouldn’t have asked. It’s too soon. It’s just that I—if we do this now, it’s like it isn’t a huge deal, you know? It’s like I’m introducing Lilah to a friend.”
“A… friend.” I release my grip on him.
“That’s not what I meant. Or how I see you. I know it sounds strange, but it just feels like less pressure this way. If we waited six months, and
then
you met her, it could feel like this big, scary thing.”
He thinks we’ll be together in six months. He thinks we could be something. My heart speeds up.
“And she’s a really important part of my life. The most important part of my life. It would feel wrong for you
not
to meet her, you know?”
The first bell rings, making us both jump. I pull away.
“I know, Luke.” I reach around him and find my coffee. Suddenly, I need something to do, need something between us. I take a long sip. It’s cold. “I didn’t mean to freak out. Really. I just—”
“You need time to think. I get it. It’s okay.” He squeezes my arm and kisses me on the forehead. “Really, Elle.” There’s pain in his eyes. Pain that I caused. “Let’s leave it like this: the invitation’s open. Dinner’s at six at my house. If you want to come, great. If not, it’s okay. Okay?”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Hey. Wish me luck with Goodwin today.”
“You won’t need it.” I’m trying for light. Breezy, even. I’m failing.
Luke waves and slips out the door just as my first few students are trickling in. I greet them and then turn my back to the class, scribbling something unnecessary on the board. I’ve hurt him with my hesitation, I know that. And I hate it. But doesn’t he see that meeting his daughter is a huge step? It’s a step I need time to think about. A step I’m just not sure I’m ready to take.
Elle,
I’m really sorry about the things I said on the phone yesterday morning. I didn’t mean them. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about coming to stay with you ever since you left New York. Even though school isn’t terrible, and I’m used to Mom being…. Mom, I really loved the idea of the two of us living together. And then it felt like you shot me down. But I know you’re right. One more year. I can do it.
Love you for infinity,
A
“It’s just like the movies,” Waverly says the next afternoon after school. The girls and I are stretched out on a sunny patch of grass at the edge of campus, overlooking the bay. The breeze is warm; the sun brassy on the water. “So, here’s how it goes. Usually, the kid is a jerk. Especially if it’s a girl. He has a girl, right?”
I nod.
“Girls are the worst,” she confirms. “Total bitches. I was a bitch to my stepmom when we first met.” She plucks a few blades of grass and twirls them between her fingers. “Actually, I’m a bitch to her now, come to think of it.”
“You’re being the opposite of helpful.” Gwen tears a piece of fruit leather into two and offers me the bigger half. I force a smile and shake my head.
“She’s
five,
Waverly.” I ball up the soft blue cardigan I wore over my strapless gray dress and use it as a pillow. The grass is thick and rough beneath me. I want to stay here forever. Or at least until breakfast tomorrow. “I sincerely doubt she’s a bitch at five.”
“You obviously haven’t seen the movies.”
“
What
movies?” I snap.
“Waverly. Take it down a notch, okay?” Gwen says warily.
“Let me finish,” Waverly protests. “They’re bitches at
first
, but then they come around, and by the end, you’re getting pedicures together and buying her her first box of tampons.”
I close my eyes and try to breathe deeply. “What about you and your stepmom?”
“That doesn’t count. The woman is a gold-digging piece of—”
“Listen. Ellie. It’s simple,” Gwen interrupts. “Trust your gut on this one. What does your intuition tell you?”
“My intuition says I’m about to throw up,” I murmur. “My intuition also says that this dinner is happening in an hour and a half, and I still haven’t told Luke whether I’m coming, and that’s really rude.”
“Who eats dinner at six?” Waverly muses.
“FIVE YEAR-OLDS,” I bellow.
My pale skin is starting to burn under the afternoon sun. It feels good. I lie there in silence for a while, trying not to think of all the things that could go wrong. I don’t know how to act around a little kid. I won’t know what to say. And if there’s anything genetic about maternal instincts, then I’m totally fucked.
“Hey, Elle?” Gwen’s voice is soft. “Do you love Luke?”
The question swoops down and covers me.
Do I love Luke?
A man who’s kind and gentle, and who takes the time to surprise me and cook for me and who understands pain and surviving it and who makes my body and heart want to burst when he’s close.
“Of course.” My voice is small, and I know the words to be true.
“Then it’s fairly simple, right? If you love him.”
“Oh.” I sit up and squint into the sun.
“I don’t mean that it’s easy.” Gwen leans over and brushes bits of grass from my shoulder. “I just mean that it’s simple.”
“Do you not
want
to meet her?” Waverly asks.
“It’s not that I don’t want to meet her. I mean, she’s just a kid. An adorable kid, actually. It’s just that we’re getting to a really good place, Luke and me. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You won’t screw it up,” Waverly argues.
You don’t know me. Not really. I screw everything up.
“You won’t,” she says again. “Just don’t curse in front of her, get drunk and hit on her boyfriend on her birthday, or try to fit into one of her outfits even though you haven’t been a size four since HIGH SCHOOL, psycho-skank.”
“We’re not talking about me any more, are we?”
“Listen.” Gwen’s eyes are bright in the late afternoon sun. “The only thing that matters is that you love him. And she’s a part of him. You’ll love her, too.”
Gwen’s words echo in my mind as I stand paralyzed at Luke’s front door, debating whether to ring the bell or bolt. My stomach churns loudly enough to drown out my heartbeat. I’m not sure I can do this. But it’s too late. I sent him a text already. A cheerful,
looking forward it to it
text. There were exclamation points and smiley faces involved. I can’t take back a smiley face.
Inside, I hear the slap of bare feet against the floor, and a half-laugh, half-screech so loud I can’t help but smile. I’m reaching for the bell when the door swings open. Luke’s wearing a white t-shirt and bottle green shorts, accessorized with a frilly pink apron and an equally pink chef’s hat about six sizes too small. There’s a dab of chocolate on his cheek.
“Oh. Wow.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh. “You look amazing. And so big! Lilah, is it?”
“Hilarious,” Luke deadpans, patting the chef’s hat. “I’ve been instructed that if I don’t wear the chef’s hat, the cookies will be sad.”
“Sad cookies are the worst.” I extend the plastic bottle I brought as a last-minute dinner offering. “Apple juice?”
Luke’s grin is enough to melt my anxiety. Some of it, anyway. “That’s really sweet. Come on in. You look great.” He takes the apple juice and closes the door behind me.
“Thanks.” I smooth the red and black-striped boatneck tee I’m wearing with skinny jeans and flats. I’d changed clothes at least four times, until Waverly told me that the boatneck said “I’m casual, fun, and definitely not banging your dad.”
Done.
When Luke locks the door, I catch a whiff of vanilla extract. I want to bury my mouth in his neck.
“Daaaaaaaaaaaad!” I hear Lilah’s voice before I see her, dashing out of the bathroom in tights, a t-shirt, and an apron that matches Luke’s. There’s a purple tutu cinched around her waist. She stops in her tracks when she sees me.
I freeze. “Um… hey, there.”
Hey there?
She tilts her head to one side, studying me. I’m suddenly, strangely overwhelmed.
That’s exactly what Luke does when he can’t figure me out. She looks exactly like him.
“Are you Dad’s friend?”
I nod. Swallow the lump in my throat. “I am. My name is Elle.” I extend my hand. “And you’re Lilah?”
“Yeah. If you’re uncomferble, it’s okay,” she informs me. “But you still have to be nice.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it, holding on for dear life.
“Um…” I glance at Luke, who looks amused and embarrassed at the same time.
“We may have had a heart-to-heart before you got here,” he explains.
“Come on! We’re making cookies!” Lilah drags me to the kitchen table, where bowls of toppings surround a baking sheet topped with mounds of sprinkles and frosting. The table is covered in a fine mist of pink sugar.
“There’s some cookie dough under there somewhere.” Luke helps Lilah climb onto the chair. Gingerly, she reaches for a white chocolate chip and places it carefully atop a mountain of marshmallows.
“That one’s beautiful.” I take a seat next to Lilah and push up my sleeves. “Can I decorate one?”
“Well, I did them all already. But you can have this one.” She picks red heart candies out of a lump of dough and pops them all in her mouth.
“Hey! What did I say?” Luke protests.
“After dinner.” She sticks out her tongue, which is stained bright red. “Too late.”