Page 5 of Finding Forever

We spent the next hour debating the merits of what condiments and sauces belonged with what foods, and disagreeing at every turn until the kids finally tired themselves out. They spread out on the towel when they got back and feasted on snacks until full-out exhaustion got the best of them.

I helped Gina pack the chairs back into the travel bags and ignored her protests about carrying them back. We walked side-by-side back towards the line of houses just off the beach. My eyebrows lifted when Gina turned toward the cottage next to ours.

“Looks like we’re neighbors,” I mentioned. “We’re just next door.”

Penny and Mycah jumped up and down excitedly at that revelation, pulling a smile out of Gina.

I found myself smiling too. The way her nose crinkled as her eyes lit up was enough to pull a smile out of even the crankiest of men.

“Do you want to come over for spaghetti Saturday?” Mycah was asking when I tuned back into the conversation happening around me. “My mom makes thebestspaghetti.”

“Daddy, can we go?” Penny tugged at my shirt tail. “Please?”

Backed into a corner, I looked over at Gina, who looked sheepish when our eyes collided.

“Please manage your expectations. Mycah hasn’t tasted a lot of spaghetti, so his opinion may be skewed. I also never use dill in any of my meals.”

I held my hand to my chest as if wounded in response to that quip.

“But you two are more than welcome to join us. I plan to make plenty.”

I told myself I was only saying yes because I wanted Penny and Mycah to be able to spend more time together. But the truth of the matter was that Gina intrigued me. Effortlessly. More than anyone had in a long time.

Gina

This felt nice. Being surrounded by happy kids and the aroma of Italian spices, onions and garlic throughout the spacious kitchen. I covered the pot in which the ground turkey was currently cooking and placed the spoon on the counter near the stove top. As nice as it was, I wished for Mycah’s sake that his dad would actually show. The two texts I’d sent already had gone unanswered. Which would have been fine if it was only me he was ignoring. I didn’t need his attention, but his son did.

Leaving the kitchen, I peeked in on the kids and smiled when I saw Mycah and Penny marching around the room, putting on their own two-person parade. It wasn’t until they started whispering—loudly—that I realized I wasn’t supposed to see this just yet.

“We have to be perfect so we can show them after dinner!” Mycah said, tapping his little foot.

I grinned at his leadership stance. The proud smile on his face made it hard to remain quiet as I watched them a few moments later. Finally, I returned to the kitchen, deep in thought. I was almost scared of the hope blossoming in my chest. It felt misplaced because, for the first time in a long while, Mycah wasn’t sad.

The last couple of years had done a number on the both of us, but especially my little man. He’d gone from jovial and carefree to quiet and withdrawn. Even with activities he used to love. My heart broke every time I noticed. To see him being playful and enjoying the company of a new friend set my heart at ease.

Divorce was hard. Even harder when you factored the lives of the children involved. I’d been left with no choice in the matter when Chris had begun an emotional affair with another parent at Mycah’s daycare. Before that, our marriage felt like I was the only one putting in any effort. Fulfilling the roles of both mom and dad while Chris and I were married was impossible and trying to do so now was pointless. No matter how much I wanted it to, it just didn’t work.

Maverick was also divorced, and I wondered how they managed to keep Penny so well-rounded. Though I’m sure having money plays a huge factor in that.

“Sorry about that,” Maverick apologized, walking back into the kitchen. He’d stepped away to take yet another seemingly urgent call. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

I turned to him with a smile and held up a bunch of freshly peeled carrots. I didn’t know if he was just offering to be polite or if he really planned on helping me, but I wasn’t above putting him to work. “Yes, actually. Could you chop up these carrots?”

My son loved my spaghetti, but what he didn’t know was that I used it as an opportunity to sneak in vegetables he refused to otherwise eat. Thanks to my dicing skills and a well-powered blender, Mycah was none the wiser that the sauce he loved was full of veggies.

Maverick walked over to the sink to wash his hands before he settled in front of the cutting board and picked up the knife. He began chopping in silence and the rhythmic soundtrack of the knife hitting the wooden cutting board over and over again lulled me into a nice trance as I continued adding ingredients to the turkey.

Intrigued by the man I’d unexpectedly spent most of the day with, I shifted my eyes to study him for what felt like the one hundredth time today. His lips were in a deep frown as he concentrated on his task at hand, as if there was a prize to win when he was done. I remembered how thoughtful he was earlier when he answered questions and how easy it was for him to make me laugh. It was no wonder I hadn’t memorized every little detail by now.

He was attractive, yes. And while that drew my attention, there was an air surrounding him that pulled me in just as much as his good looks. An aura that made me want to use our limited time together wisely and learn as much about him as possible. He spoke before I had the chance to choose from the ever-growing list of questions running through my mind.

“It smells good in here,” Maverick commented. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a home-cooked meal. Thanks for letting us crash your dinner.”

“Don’t mention it.” I added minced garlic to the steaming pan. “Why haven’t you had a homecooked meal lately?”

I couldn’t resist asking. It was hard to imagine a man like him not having a woman wanting to fulfill his every whim. Maverick heaved a sigh before sharing, “My ex-wife was never really the cooking type, so we ate out a lot. After the divorce, I sort of just maintained that routine. I order out more than I should and probably use my microwave an unhealthy amount.”

He laughed and the low rumble was enough to make me all warm inside. I couldn’t stop the smile that took over my face at his confession. I found his honesty endearing. Finding out that he relied on too much takeout in between all those important phone calls just made sense.

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