Page 44 of Perfect Playbook

“Trust me, this is a dream come true. The first time I thought you’d marry Logan, I imagined you having to live across the country, wherever he had to play.”

My withered heart is now completely dehydrated and crumpled into flower crumbs. Dad imagined Logan and me getting married? He’s always been sappy and sentimental and even an unrealistic romantic at times. I never could have left with Logan.

He wipes his eyes with his fingers, drying them completely. “What did Nino say this morning when you spoke to him about moving?”

Over breakfast this morning, I told Nino about our new adventure living at Logan’s, and it never ceases to amaze me how much that little boy trusts me. “I told him we were going to live with Logan today, and he said he had three questions.”

I count with my fingers for each question. “Will I have my own room? Will we still see Papá Luis? And can I take cookies to school instead of cake today?”

My dad chuckles in his deep, throaty way. “Kids are resilient.”

“Yeah.”

“As long as they have a parent, they can be anywhere. And now, Nino has two.” Dad beams with a joy I didn’t expect him to feel when I told him Logan and I got married.

Two parents.

Though the process thus far in terms of considering Antonio has been seamless, the weight of this responsibility, the enormous sense of duty to guide us in the right direction, has a gravity so immense it can be crushing. Sometimes I think being a single mom is easier than having another person to deal with. Negotiating all the discipline and the values I instill in Nino isn’t something I really want to argue with some man about. But other times, having another voice of reason around would be wonderful.

When Logan talked about lying to children in Vegas… I kind of liked it. It was a touchy topic, but hearing his experience with his own mom gave me a perspective I don’t have in this parent of one.

Just then, there’s a knock on the door.Movers.

I rush over and when I open it, there’s a tall, slender blond man with impeccably coiffed hair. He’s wearing a starched salmon-colored button-down shirt.

He shoots his hand out sharply. “I’m Tom!” he says brightly, beaming ear to ear with the most pearly-white, straight-toothed smile I’ve ever seen.

He tries to contain his excitement, but his shoulders shimmy just a little. He throws two fists up to his chin when he asks, “Can I hug you? I just have to hug you. I’m so happy for you and Logan.”

I hesitate, but Logan told me Tom is his right-hand and is, next to his family and Ashton, the most trustworthy person he’s ever met. But aside from the glowing comments Logan has about him, there’s something warm in his smile that puts me instantly at ease.

“Sure, Tom. Hug away.”

He wraps his arms around me, towering over. The guy is a virtual giant.

He says somewhere over my hair, “I’m so glad Logan finally found someone.”

Finally?It didn’t seem like he was looking very hard if I’m to believe social media.

He pulls back and slaps his hands together. “Right. You have to get Antonio from school in an hour and a half, so we better get cracking.”

“You’re moving me?” I ask.

“Since Logan couldn’t be there to welcome you and Antonio, he asked me to roll out the carpet. And you don’t have much. Logan said you only requested forty boxes.”

Dad pops up from the couch. “Well, let me help, too.” He introduces himself. “I’m Luis.”

“Tom. Logan’s PA. And now all of yours, too. If any of you need anything, just shout. But yes, for now, Luis, a little help would be great. Shay, you can’t be late picking up the boy.”

Two hours later, Nino and I pull up in front of Logan’s house, both crouching to peer up at our new home out of the windshield. But there’s not much of a view from the end of the drive, just wrought-iron gates and some excellently pruned landscaping of flowers and palm trees. It’s all so domestic from the outside, and nothing about the street level appearance screams bachelor pad.

The gates groan, and the other side of the boundary reveals just the same. Logan’s front yard is an oasis. We walk hand in hand up a tiled path with beautiful manicured lawns and shrubs to either side, and it all leads to anunexpected sight. Logan’s house is one of the most beautiful adobe structures I’ve ever seen. It’s not at all the house I expected Logan to have. It’s as traditional-looking as can be in New Mexico, with smooth terra-cotta-colored exterior. I expected Logan to have some sleek, ultra-modern home.

I love it.

Nino and I wander up the long path to the front door, holding hands, silently taking in our surroundings, but when we arrive at the entrance, Nino tugs my arm.

“This is a mansion.”

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