Page 54 of Sew Matcha in Love
And heartfelt pleas to never dye my hair again, lest it turn green like when Anne tried to rid herself of her unwanted red hair.
Arwyn hadn’t disagreed when I told her she knew my heart, and she hinted that I knew hers. I could read what she wasn’t saying. We had feelings for each other that were crossing the lines of friendship. With her intuitive inclination and me wearing my heart on my sleeve, I was sure she was able to read into my expressions.
In my soul, I knew we could be good for each other, and I wanted to find out. The tricky part was exploring that while she was working for me. If it didn’t work out, the girls and I would be crushed. And if it did work out, would she move to Montreal?
There was only one way to find out.
However, I had to be careful not to come on too strong and scare her away. I lived my life big, and she was showing me how living small could be the best way of all.
As I helped the girls get ready for school, I told them Arwyn was sleeping in. They humored me as I tried to braid their hair, but despite my best efforts, it was a major fail.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, Isles?”
“You go make Wynnie breakfast in bed. Then she’ll be awake and can fix our hair.”
I snorted. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
Amelie shook her head sadly, holding up her barely-held-together braids. “Daddy! You usedzip ties.It’s an abomination.”
I barked out a laugh deep from my gut. “That’s a big word.”
“Daddy, all the girls will think Wynnie doesn’t care about us if our hair is a mess. And that’s not true. Shehasto do our hair.” Amelie’s last sentence came out as a whimper.
“Okay, Amms, no need to cry,” I said quickly. “You girls go knock—gently—on Wynnie’s door and ask for her help. I’ll make pancakes.”
“Yay!”
I followed them down the stairs and into the kitchen. Arwyn’s door opened, and I was relieved to see her sitting up in bed, reading the book she’d had last night.
I snuck at least a dozen glances as I warmed up Chef’s pancakes and set up a tray for Arwyn. Pancakes, syrup, hot tea, napkin, fork. As an afterthought, I added a scoop of strawberry ice cream on top of her stack of pancakes. I carried the tray to her room just as she finished Amelie’s second braid.
“What’s this?” she asked.
I shrugged. “An apology for waking you up?”
“Not necessary.” She grinned. “But I’ll take it.”
“Daddy, I want ice cream on my pancakes!”
“Me too!”
“Okay, okay!” I laughed. Arwyn climbed back into her bed, and I set the tray over her lap. “Enjoy.”
“Oh, I will.”
We grinned at each other. I reluctantly turned away and joined the girls. From my seat at the table, I could see into Arwyn’s doorway. Each time she caught me looking at her, I winked and she quickly averted her gaze.
But each time, her smile grew wider.
After I walkedthe girls to school, instead of heading home to drive straight to practice, I picked up drinks at the Coffee Loft and walked back to the house. I didn’t want to bother Arwyn if she was already working, but I craved seeing her again.
The front room smelled like roses and hot glue. Arwyn liked to burn a candle while she worked, and it made the place even more cozy.
She was bent over a pile of gauzy fabric at her worktable and was gluing something to it. Her hair was piled on top of her head the way she liked to wear it. A few strands of hair on each side of her face had escaped, framing her ivory complexion and making her freckles stand out.
I stood awkwardly at the doggie gate with the drink carrier, waiting for her to notice me and look up.
