Page 60 of Romance with Mr. Bossy Pants

It’s Saturday morning. Michelle perks up a little as we start filling our shopping carts. She isn't smiling yet, but she's definitely less moody than before Chloe joins us. For some reason, my daughter assumed I'd only pick boring, ugly, colorless things for her bedroom and birthday dinner, rather than the trendier items that suit her style.

I have to admit, my choices are pretty conservative—okay, maybe they were downright drab. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be exciting.

The first item I picked out was a classic black bedspread, which was met with a flat, “No, Dad.”

The second had black and white patterns, but Michelle scrunched up her nose. “It’s like a school uniform.”

And the third, a pair of loafers. “I’m not 80, Dad.”

Each time, Chloe would swoop in with an alternative that made Michelle’s eyes light up.

Before I knew it, the two of them were off, giggling and chatting like old friends while I trailed behind with a cart full of rejects.

They resurface a while later with a fluffy pink rug and a lamp that will complement the white furniture in Michelle’s room. It’s too much pink, in my opinion, but if it brings out her smile, it’s a win in my book. We shop for another hour or so before making our way home.

We pull into the driveway to see the delivery truck from Michelle’s favorite restaurant awaiting us with a feast fit for a runway after-party. I plant a kiss on Michelle’s forehead and hand her the shopping bags. “Can you take these upstairs, honey? I’ll be up in a bit to help you out.”

Michelle tilts her head toward the food. “Is this for a party?”

“I don’t know.” Chloe looks my way, puzzled.

I shake my head with a smile, “Nope, it’s just the small family dinner you wanted tonight. You made it clear that big parties aren’t your jam.”

Michelle hauls some of the bags up to her room while Chloe unpacks, folds the grocery bags, and stashes them away in a cabinet. She doesn’t say a word to me. Not that she has said much to me since coming back to work yesterday.

I set the table and Chloe quietly joins me. Michelle bounces back into the dining room a while later and stops short, her eyes flicking between us. “Why is it so quiet? You two fighting or something?” she asks with a frown.

Chloe and I exchange glances, and almost on cue, we break into forced smiles. “No, of course not,” I assure her, and Chloe nods in agreement. “We’re just so focused on making tonight’s dinner perfect.”

We gather around the table to eat, and I present Michelle with her gift—a sleek, latest-model laptop that’s been on her wish list for months. Her eyes light up, and she squeals delightfully, “Dad, it’s amazing! Thank you!”

Chloe then hands Michelle a small, wrapped box. “Happy Birthday, Michelle,” she says softly. Inside, Michelle finds a locket attached to a silver necklace. Chloe leans in, “You can keep photos of the people you love close to your heart with this.”

Michelle opens the locket to find it empty. “There are two compartments for two pictures. I’m sorry it’s not much.”

It’s a sweet gift, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

The dinner progresses with laughter and stories. Chloe’s presence brightens the room in a way I can’t explain. We chat about everything from celebrity gossip to fashion topics and play board games until Michelle’s yawns become too frequent to ignore.

“Let me help her get settled into bed.” I lift Michelle into my arms as she rests her head on my shoulder.

“Goodnight, Chloe. Thanks for coming today,” Michelle mumbles.

After tucking her in, I return downstairs to find Chloe gathering the dishes.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble, really.”

There was no point arguing with Chloe as she’d already made up her mind, so I just fell in step beside her. She washes while I dry and put away. This goes on for a while until Chloe and I start talking simultaneously.

“I wanted to thank—” she says, while I blurt out, “I’ve been meaning to ask—.”

We both stop.

“You first,” I prompt.

“No, no, you go ahead.”

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