Page 125 of Single Dad Dilemma
Barrett:I miss you too.
Me:So fucking much. That’s dumb too. Sometimes I feel like I’ll die from it.
Barrett:You won’t. It’ll just make the next time that much better.
Me:Promise?
Barrett:Promise. You want me to call you before you go to bed?
Me:Yes. What do you want to talk about tonight?
Barrett:Will you tell me another story about when you were younger?
Me:Yeah. I can do that.
“It’s impossible, Lily,” Maggie sighed. “I don’t know if I can manage these on my own.”
“Nonsense. You’ve mastered everything we’ve tried so far.”
“Macarons are way harder, though.” She adjusted the camera where she’d set it on the counter. “Can you see now?”
“Yup.” I held up my own silicon baking sheet. “See the size of mine? Try piping your circles a little bit bigger.”
Maggie tucked her tongue between her teeth, brow furrowed in concentration as she did as I instructed. We’d mastered the art of FaceTime baking sessions pretty damn well.
Barrett’s head popped into the background, his eyes locking onto mine as he sent me a devastating smile. “Am I allowed to say hi yet?”
“No,” Maggie yelled. “It’s my turn with her.”
I blew him a kiss. “Later,” I promised.
He winked. Just a tiny one. Not a big douchey one. That gave me butterflies too.
Maggie got batter on her hand and, in an unthinking motion, wiped it over her shirt, then groaned. “See? I told you I need an apron.”
“We’ll find you the perfect one,” I promised.
Barrett reappeared with a washcloth, helping her get the mess off her shirt. Maggie’s face was thoughtful when she picked up the piping bag again, pausing as it hovered over the baking sheet. “Remember when you told me about your mom’s lucky apron?”
A gentle pang swept through my chest, and I let myself breathe through it as I nodded. “Yeah. It’s in a box somewhere. It was pretty. She’d embroidered little flowers on it, and it had scalloped edges along the bottom.”
Maggie pursed her lips, giving me a shy look. “Do you remember what color it was?”
I met Barrett’s eyes in the camera, and the quiet support I saw in his face made it so much easier to answer than I’d thought.
“Yellow.”
Me:I feel like such an ass.
Barrett:You can’t help that you’re sick. No one’s mad at you for not being here.
Me:I’m missing your brother’s wedding! I wanted to see you in a suit. It does things to me.
Barrett:How about I skip the wedding and come feed you soup? I’ll bring the suit for when you’re feeling better.
Me:Tempting, but no. You cannot miss this. Plus, I’m all snotty and shivery. I’m not cute when I have a fever.
Barrett:You’re always cute.
