Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Oh, believe it,” I told him. “I’ve done kids’ parties that cost thousands and thousands of dollars. These people don’t just want someone in a Cinderella getup from Target with an iPod. They want the gown and the castle, the pumpkin carriage, real white horses, elaborate decorations, a DJ with a stereo system, silver tea sets, cakes shaped like a glass slipper, fireworks, bounce houses, piñatas, a dance floor, face painters—”
He groaned. “Stop. Just stop right there. Before Paisley hears you and gets ideas.”
I laughed. “Don’t you want to give your daughter a princess party?”
“No. She can have a regular party with kids from the neighborhood like we did when we were kids, where you play musical chairs and pin the tail on the donkey, and eat a slice of homemade yellow cake with chocolate frosting on paper plates with plastic forks and ice cream melting all around it,” said Nate.
“We?” I asked curiously. “I thought you didn’t have any siblings.”
“I meant you and me,” he said quickly. “Kids from our generation.”
“Ah. Well, I suspect you’re going to want to spoil your daughter a little more than that. I bet she’ll have you wrapped around her little finger, just like my sisters and I were with our dad. He never could say no to us.”
Nate went quiet after that, so quiet that I was concerned I’d said something wrong. Was he thinking about his future with Paisley? Or his past? Was he picturing the suburban neighborhood where he grew up and wondering if he owed his daughter the same kind of upbringing? Downtown loft living was great for single people like us, but if you had kids, you had to think about things like safe outdoor places for them to play, schools, friends nearby. But rather than ask him about his plans again, I changed the subject. “So what do you think about letting my sisters babysit so we could go out one night this week? I looked at my schedule earlier and believe it or not, we don’t have any events scheduled for this weekend.”
“Really? That’s nice.”
I could tell he was still distracted, and tried not to be disappointed at our mismatched levels of excitement. “Well, you let me know.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes, and I looked out over the Detroit River, holding my hair back from blowing in my face and wondering what he was thinking, why he’d suddenly gone mute. When we reached the foot of the Belle Isle bridge, I asked if he wanted to walk across or turn around.
He glanced into the stroller. “Turn around, I guess. She’ll have to eat soon, and it’s easier to feed her at home.”
I nodded, and we started walking back. After another ten minutes went by, I couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” But his expression remained serious, his jaw clenched.
“Because you seem a little upset,” I went on, making an effort to sound friendly and not accusatory. “And I was just wondering if I said something wrong.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh. Okay, good.”
More silence. I was about to lose my mind when he stopped walking. I got about four feet ahead of him and turned around.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I am upset about something, but it’s nothing you need to worry about.” He pushed the stroller and caught up to me. “And I would like to take you out this weekend. Could you ask your sisters if Friday night would be okay? I still want to try to visit my mom on Saturday.”
“Of course,” I said, relieved it wasn’t me but concerned about whatever it was that was bothering him. “I’ll text them right now.” Pulling my phone from the pocket of my denim jacket, I messaged both sisters at once. Maren got back to me right away and said she’d be happy to do it, and Stella replied a few minutes later that she was supposed to attend a work function with Walter but would rather babysit with Maren, so she was going to try to get out of it.
“We’re all set.” I dropped my phone back into my pocket and grinned at Nate, hoping to cheer him up. “We have not one but two qualified babysitters anxious to give you some relief and us some adult time.”
“Great,” he said, giving me half a smile.
“What should we do?” I faced him and galloped sideways a few steps, thrilled at the prospect of an evening out with him by my side, holding a restaurant door open for me, taking my hand as we walked through a crowded room, sitting across a candlelit table.
“Leave it to me.” He sounded a little better, happier. “I’ll take care of everything. I want to treat you.”
My stomach fluttered. “I can’t wait.”
Friday night, my sisters knocked on my apartment door around six. I let them in, and they followed me upstairs to my bedroom so I could finish getting ready. Nate had made a reservation for seven o’clock, but he hadn’t told me where. He’d said I could dress up or dress down, whatever I pleased. Since he was the one I wanted to please, I’d chosen a bright red dress that showed off my legs and had a deep V in the front. But other than that, it wasn’t skimpy or provocative—it had long, blousy sleeves that cuffed at the wrist, a little belt around the waist, and a soft, flowing skirt. I’d noticed that Nate was turned on by things that were suggestive without being overly revealing. I liked that about him.