Page 72 of If This Was a Movie

“Oh yeah?” I ask, and she nods emphatically.

“Yeah. We’re cutting things close, you know.”

I turn back to the sandwich in front of me, spreading peanut butter on the bread and fighting a laugh. “Things?” I never know what crazy shit is going to come out of Sophie’s mouth, but I always love to hear it.

“Jules isn’t in love with you yet,” she declares. “And that’s because you’re doing it all wrong!”

I fail, letting out a small laugh, and I move on to the jelly. She’s not completely wrong: there hasn’t been a major breakthrough between us, no confession of love or outward acceptance of something between us, but I’m okay with it. My sisters and Sophie might think I need to go full speed ahead, but I’m playing it cautious, afraid to scare off Jules before she lets her walls down. Instead, I’m basking in the small wins, like her calling me at night and talking all night about absolutely nothing or watching movies in my lap.

“And how am I doing it wrong, exactly?”

“You haven’t even taken her on a date,” my daughter, who is much too wise for her age, nearly shouts. “You gotta take her out. Give her a grand gesture. That’s how you make a girl fall in love with you.”

I slide the sandwich into a zip-top bag, put it into her lunchbox, and close it before turning to face my daughter, arms crossed on my chest as I lean on the counter.

I sent Jules a text this morning asking if she wanted to get coffee, but considering we were up late as can be talking on the phone, I think she’s probably sleeping in. Last night she told me she didn’t have much going on today except for the holiday party for her kids tonight at the center, which is why I planned on taking her to get coffee and try my hand at a bit more wooing before she has to go.

“What do you know about grand gestures?” I ask.

“Jules taught me all about them. In all of the movies, that’s how the guy wins the girl. You’re never going to convince Jules to stay forever if you don’t give her a grand gesture!”

I sigh, knowing my daughter is not going to like what I have to say next. Neither do I, if I’m being honest.

“Soph, I need to make sure you know that after Christmas, Jules is going to move into her house again.” Her eyes go wide, and I see the dramatics start to win. “Eventually, if things go the way I’m hoping, she’ll move in with us for real, but she’s got a place of her own, baby. And the dance studio. The deal was she’d live in the cottage until things were all done.”

She glares at me now, moving from sad to annoyed.

“But,” I say, cutting off whatever rampage I know is impending. “But if we play our cards right, she’ll be back.”I’ve got a plan, kid. Just give it some time.

The plan is a bit hazy, if I’m being honest, and changes day-to-day to fit what I think Jules is ready for, but it’s there. Shetakes in my words before finally, thankfully, nodding as if she now agrees we’re on the same page.

“Well, then, what’s your plan?” she asks, arms crossing her chest to mimic mine.

“My plan?”

She sighs as if I’m the most exhausting person on this planet.

“Your plan, Dad. To make her fall in love with you. You’ve gotta take her out.”

I could brush her off, but considering Sophie has spent a good chunk of time with Jules, too, lately, I decided to pick her brain. Maybe I can get some good ideas from her.

“What are you thinking?” I ask. “I’m planning to take her to coffee and on a date today. What should I add?”

She smiles deviously.

“I’ve got an idea,” she says like she’s been waiting for this question, and I can’t help but laugh.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m just getting off the phone, and Sophie is sliding on her jacket when Jules shuffles in the backdoor in sweats and a pair of slippers. As if she rolled right out of bed into the main house without much of a hesitation. I love that—how she’s eager to get here and how she’s getting more comfortable in my place.

“Jules!” Sophie yells, dropping her jacket altogether and running to hug her legs. “I thought I was going to miss you before school.”

Jules’s hand moves, gently brushing back Sophie’s hair I had to do myself this morning, much to her dismay, and smiling down at her.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I was more tired than I thought, I guess. I usually wake up without an alarm, but I was out like a light. I was up really late last night.” Over my daughter’s head, I give Jules a knowing smile, and she blushes.

She’s so fucking cute.

“Well, today, you need to go with my dad,” Sophie says, fists on her hips and glaring up.

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