Page 101 of Free Heart
But they’re not in love, right?
I mean, you can’t fall in love inone day, can you?
I glance over at Dan who’s collapsed on the sectional sofa—the one that supposedly pulls out? Is that eventrue?—and remember how I felt leaving his van after that first night together back in August. The tug in my belly. The fluttering in my chest.
Ugh.
At that moment, Leenie and Martin wrangle their children and start their goodbyes. I tell them their kids are blessed angels from above, which they’re happy to hear, and Dan doesn’t correct me. I think he enjoyed watching them too. He really does like kids. Then, as Peggy Jo and my Dad see them out to their car, I head over to sit with Dan on the sofa.
He puts his arm around my shoulder and tugs me close to say in my ear, “So this is having a family, huh? People go pick up other people at the airport for you. People give you hugs and kisses on the cheek. People get with your kinda-mom and make it weird.”
“Shh,” I hush him again as Dad comes back in and sits on the chair across from the enormous windows—Lowell’s usual spot these days.
“What a view,” he says. “Peggy Jo says she bought this place with her husband almost thirty years ago.”
Dan nods.
My dad’s eyes turn to him now, studying him like he’s a book that’s full of words he doesn’t understand. But then he just nods to himself before saying, “Good to meet you, son. How’s the leg?”
“Better.”
We lapse into silence until Muggs leaps onto Dad’s lap and starts purring and rubbing against his shirt.
“He’s my favorite,” Dan volunteers.
“Really?” I ask. “I didn’t know you had a favorite.”
“Yeah. He’s got the least percentage of demon in her blood.”
Dad blinks.
“It’s a joke,” I offer in explanation. “Dan used to be afraid of cats.”
“Ah. Afraid of cats, but not of free solo climbing a beauty like El Cap,” Dad says, scratching at Mugg’s ears. He’s lapping it up, turning her head into him and giving a purring, kitty smile.
“No, sir.”
“I’m afraid of bees, myself.”
“Bee stings are a bitch,” Dan agrees.
Silence again.
I clear my throat. “What do you want to do while you’re here, Dad?”
“See your kids dance. Have Christmas with you. Visit with Martin’s family.” His eyes slide toward the kitchen where Peggy Jo seems to be inventorying the food situation. “Enjoy making new friends.”
Dan nudges me with his elbow.
“Excuse me a minute, boys. I’m gonna help Peggy Jo out in the kitchen. I’ll be right back,” Dad says, dumping Muggs on the floor as he rises to go.
“Oh, he’s got it bad,” Dan whispers. “Can’t say I blame him. My kinda-mom is a babe.”
“Dan…”
“What?”
“Shut up.”
