Page 11 of Swooning for the Summer Manny

“Please, Mom?” Amelia begs.

“Honey…”

She makes a face. “I knew it. You don’t like him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So you do like him?”

The knot in my chest throbs. “Of course I like him.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, squinting at me with suspicion. “What do you like about him?”

“Well…for starters, he’s very good at looking after you.”

“And?”

“He’s a kind person.”

“And?”

“And he’s funny, and thoughtful, and respectful. Is that enough?”

“I guess.” She continues to study me. “Mom, are you and Ryan friends?”

“Not exactly. We have a professional relationship.”

“Oh.” She looks disappointed. “So that means you can’t be friends?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well, I think you should be friends. And I really, really think we should throw him a party. Even if it’s the tiniest party there ever was. Even if it only lasts two seconds.”

I laugh. Knowing my daughter, she’s not going to give up until I give in. And even though I have my concerns about keeping things professional, I do want to do something nice for Ryan. He’s done so much for us, after all.

“Okay,” I say. “A tiny party it is.”

6

RYAN

“Don’t peek, Ryan,” Amelia warns me. “I mean it. No matter how tempted you are, don’t you dare peek. If you do, I will be livid.”

I try to keep a straight face, but I can’t help but laugh. “I won’t. I promise.”

A few minutes ago, Amelia insisted that I take a seat in the living room and allow her to blindfold me with a scarf. I’m not sure what she’s up to, but I have a feeling it has something to do with my birthday, since she knows it’s today. I don’t usually make a big deal out of my birthday, but it’s not like I mind celebrating it, either.

I listen to the sounds of rustling as Amelia takes care of whatever she’s doing. After a while, I hear her leave the living room. There are some muffled sounds on the other side of the house, but I can’t figure out what’s going on.

“Okaaaay,” she sings when she returns. “Ready?”

I smile. “Ready.”

I feel Amelia tug on the scarf, and it falls away from my face. When my vision is returned to me, I see a living room decorated with a hodgepodge of ribbons and a homemade banner that says HAPPY BIRTHDAY RYAN in big uneven letters.

And then Karin appears in the entryway of the living room, holding a plate of three cupcakes topped with flickering candles. I don’t know if it’s the glow of the candles or what, but it’s the most beautiful sight I could ask for. I can’t keep my eyes off Karin as she carries the cupcakes over and sets them down on the coffee table in front of me. I didn’t even know Karin was home yet, but now the muffled sounds I heard a few minutes ago make sense.

“Happy Birthday, Ryan,” she says, smiling as she sets the plate down.

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