Page 60 of The Doctor's Surprise Family

I closed my eyes so they wouldn’t water. Of course I loved Blake. I’d never not loved him. Even when I’d hated him for running away, a sad little part of me had always pined for him.

“It’s been three years,” I said. “I’ve changed. So has he. We’re not who we were. We can’t turn back the clock.”

Mom made a huffing sound. “I’m not asking you if you loved him back then. I’m asking you,now, how do you feel about Blake? How do you feel when you’re with him right now?”

The answer to that was, I felt wonderful. I felt seen and cared for, as I always had. I felt safe in his arms, and I knew I could trust him, not just with my heart, but with Oli’s as well. And Blake made me smile, and he made me laugh, and he made me believe in myself, in my future — but when it came toourfuture, what did he want?

“I love him,” I said. “But I don’t know what he wants.”

“Well, you know what to do, then.” Mom crossed her arms. “Ask him. Or better yet,tellhim. Tell him what you want. If you’d done that last time, he might never have left.”

Mom was right, but her words still stung. I’d spent so long blaming Blake for all my setbacks, I’d never dealt with my share of the guilt. If I’d just spoken up, if I’d only listened, if I’d opened the door when Blake came to talk, he could’ve been here for us all these years. Oli wouldn’t have missed three whole birthdays with Dad, or the milestones between them, first steps. First words.

“Well?” Mom planted her hands on her hips. “Are you going to talk to him, or do I have to get involved? Do you kids need me to knock your fool heads together?”

The oven dinged, and I laughed, a release of tension. “Oven’s ready,” I said.

“But that pie crust isn’t.” Mom shouldered me aside and set to work on the crust. “You kids these days need your moms to do everything. Taxes, crimp pie crusts, talk to your boyfriends…”

I bristled, offended. “I do my own taxes!”

“And you’d have overpaid last year, if I hadn’t checked them.”

“By ten dollars.Ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars is ten dollars. That’s another thing with you kids today: you don’t value money. You don’t know how to save it, or how to invest. You just spend it, assuming there’ll always be more. Well, let me tellyou…”

I tuned out her rant and moved on to my next pie, and I wondered if Blake was up baking, too. His place always smelled good. That hadn’t changed. Neither had his smile, or the way he looked at me. Mom was right: I did love him, and I wanted to try. If we could have a second chance, we’d be stupid not to take it. I’d be stupid not to step up and tell Blake how I felt.

“After dinner,” said Mom.

Had she read my mind? “What?”

“I was saying, we’ll get out some board games for Oli, then once he’s in bed, we can all watch a movie.”

“Sounds good,” I said. But after the movie… After the movie, I’d talk to Blake. We deserved a chance this time. We deserved honesty.

CHAPTER 21

BLAKE

Thanksgiving morning, I baked up my pie, then I drove it to Claire’s place and exchanged it for Oli. I’d offered to take him to lunch, then the park, so Claire and her parents could focus on cooking. He ran out to meet me with Buster in tow, both jumping up on me. I patted both their heads.

We ended up at Pie Palace, on their patio, eating our pizza as Buster nosed for scraps. Oli watched as I ate, his eyes big and solemn.

“What is it, bud? You want more juice?”

Oli glanced at his empty cup. He shook his head. “We got the same lunch,” he said, and pointed at my plate. “Extra-cheese slice with pepperoni and mushrooms, orange juice, and an apple for dessert.”

I smiled. “Yeah, we did. Guess we like the same food.”

“We have the same shirt as well. See, blue and blue.” He pointed at his shirt, then pointed at mine. “Yours is light blue, but it’s almost the same. And our shoes are the same. Laces, not Velcro.”

“You’re really good at tying your shoes. I’d tie my own thumbs together when I was your age.”

Oli giggled at that, but he wasn’t done. “We look the same too. We both have big feet. And I heard Gramps saying our chins look the same.” He jutted his chin out and stroked it like a beard. “So, you’re really my dad?”

I nearly dropped my slice. “Of course I’m your dad.”

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