Page 18 of Forgotten Romance

“I don’t want to grow up. That’s not fair.”

“Well … adults don’t need toys. Santa makes toys.”

“Then why did Harry Stevens ask for a PlayStation 5? A PlayStation isn’t a toy.”

“Ah …”

“Can we get a PlayStation 5?”

“No.”

She doesn’t look at all disappointed. “That’s okay, I’ll ask Santa.”

Well, fuck. How do parents get out of this one?

I pull up in the parking lot behind the library, where Mack is already huddled on the back stoop. He’s wearing a beanie, a scarf, and a heavy coat, and I’d bet he’s got gloves on the hands buried in his pockets. I want to get out and hug him to warm him up, but instead, I turn up the heat on his side while he jogs closer and jumps inside.

“H-hey family!” he calls, sounding frozen but happy.

That’s my Mack.

Always happy.

Always positive.

He makes my life that way too.

If he does start dating this Luke guy—or any guy—would that be taken from me? If he gets in a serious relationship, things will change. They’ll need to. There’s no way I could stay living in the same house they hang out in. There’s no way we’ll be able to have family movies cuddled up on the couch together. Or breakfast every morning when I’m home. Or … this.

Mack talking to the kids about how their day was and excitedly sharing his.

This will all become someone else’s.

And I’m going to have to live with that.

“You okay?” he asks, all bright blue eyes and red flushed cheeks.

My smile comes easily because for right now, he’s still mine. Kinda. “Yeah, I was just wondering whether to get takeout tonight.”

“McDonald’s!” Kiera yells, setting Van off into a chant of “Fries, fries, fries.”

Mack palms his forehead. “You’ve done it now.”

“Anything to keep my family happy.”

6

Mack

“Thank you all for coming,” Art says in a somber tone to the group around him. “It breaks my heart to say, but … Mack has gone to the other side.”

Payne and Orson exchange looks, and I raise my hand.

“Ah, I’m right here?”

“Not dying other side. Relationship other side.”

“Which is basically dying, as far as Art is concerned.” Ford grins, squeezing Orson’s thigh. They’re sitting on the couch across from me in the top mezzanine at Killer Brew.

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