Page 26 of That First Flight

“Do you ski?” Now I find myself asking her mundane questions when I want to be asking about her daughter.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Absolutely not. I don’t have a death wish,” she says.

“I have to agree with you on that one.” I laugh.

Macey finishes making the hot chocolate and places the mug in front of me. I look down at it, nervous and unsure of what to say next.

“It’s getting late, I’m going to head out,” I say.

She nods, but doesn’t reply. I feel like an asshole but there’s some things I want to work out before I open my mouth anymore tonight.

She has a dream to make it to the city and become a chef.

If anyone knows restaurants in the city, it’s me.

I think I know just the thing to do.

For a man who makes my cheeks hurt from smiling so much when he’s around, Oliver sure is doing a number on my sleep patterns.

I don’t think I’ve slept a normal amount since he came into my life.

It’s as if he tilted everything on its axis for me.

Except, I don’t have time to be tired right now. Apparently it’s a busy travel day for people leaving town and they all want to get a quick lunch in before they hit the road. So the Bar and Grill is packed today.

I feel less guilty working than I normally do because Flora has Mackenzie for the day. She is taking her downtown for lunch and to see the horses.

There’s two different types of spoiling she’s experienced. The kind from my parents that includes monetary things and gifts that get shoved in a closet or are given to her with an ulterior motive. And then there's the type of spoiling that two people who don’t hold a grandparent title give her—love and experiences.

Just as the lunch rush finally dies down and I get the bar area cleaned up, I hear the bell ding, signaling someone is coming in.

Just as my eyes land on the entrance, I see Oliver walking toward me like a man on a mission.

I prop my hand on my hip as I stare at him. “How did I know you would be coming in today?”

“Something about this place…” His eyes trail my body. No doubt I look a hot mess right now after that rush we just had. I also probably smell like grease and booze. “I would much rather be here than anywhere else. Plus, we need to talk.”

I feel like when a man tells youwe need to talk,that's when the break up happens. But we’re not even remotely on that level, so why does my stomach flip when he says those words to me?

Anxiety wins instantly because I wonder if I did something wrong by telling him I had a daughter. When I did, I watched as the wheels spun in his head while he processed the information I unloaded on him.

Twenty minutes later, he claimed he had to get back and left rather abruptly.

I don’t blame him, honestly.

Dropping a bomb like that one will cause anyone’s head to spin.

Is he ending our friendship because I have a daughter?

This is it. This is where the judgment comes from me being a young, single mom.

I should be used to this from living with it for so long. I learned how to brush it off after my parents would throw it in my face any chance they got. But it feels different with Oliver. There’s something about him that makes me care about whathethinks more than anyone.

Even if once he leaves for the city, I’m likely never going to see him again.

“Come back to the city with me.”

---