Page 97 of Falling for You Again

Kidder moves around the table saw, separating the wood, and I notice the unfinished piece of furniture behind him.

“What’s my dad’s desk doing here?”

I walk over and glide my hand across the newly sanded surface. Sure enough, it’s the same desk I helped him load onto Uncle Bear’s truck yesterday evening.

Aaron comes to stand beside me. “It’s here because I ordered it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I hired your dad to make you a desk. Sort of a wedding-slash-going-into-business-together gift.”

All this time Dad was making the desk for me? It’s the finest, most elegant piece he’s ever crafted, something I thought long before I knew it was for me. So much love and care has gone into the artistry. For me.

I feel the burn of tears and a strong tightening in my chest rising up, forcing the tears to spill over. Aaron rests a comforting hand on my back.

Across the woodshop, a door slams. In walks Dad with a couple of brown bags from a local deli. He stops when he sees me, then hesitantly approaches.

“Sorry, Meli-pie. If I’d known you’d be here, I would have picked up a sandwich for you.”

He unpacks the bags, tossing a wrapped baguette to Kidder.

“Thanks, Dean.”

“You can have half of mine if you’re hungry,” Aaron offers.

I stare at him. I stare at each of them. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

“I work here.”

“Since when?”

“Since this morning. Aaron offered me a job. I took it.” He rips off a big bite of his sandwich.

“If that’s okay with you,” Aaron says to me. “It’s your team.”

If it’s okay with me? Kidder is here. Dad’s here. Aaron.

This is my family.Ourfamily, I think, taking Aaron’s hand.

“It’sourteam, and yes, it’s okay for him to work here. Thank you for hiring him.” With his record, he would have had a difficult time finding employment elsewhere.

I surprise Dad with a big hug. He pats my back.

“This mean you and Aaron are going into business together?” Dad asks, and I nod. Dad looks at Kidder, then Aaron. “All right. Who owes who?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“We took a bet on how long you’d last at Stone & Bloom,” Kidder explains. “What was it, half a day? An hour?”

“I didn’t even make it to the showroom. I never clocked in. And you”—I point at Dad—“you aren’t supposed to be gambling.”

“It was a simple bet.”

“I’m serious, or I’m firing you.”

Dad holds up his hands. “It’ll never happen again.”

Aaron holds up his palm toward Dad. “Pay up first. I won.”

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