20. Nash
TWENTY
nash
Yesterday, I’d told Nell that Maggie was going to start having breakfast with us sometimes because she was my friend.
Today…Maggie was pregnant.
And I was going to tell Nell that Maggie was going to start staying with us. And that she was Dad’s special friend.
I had absolutely no idea how to do this.
I was fully convinced I was going to mess it up.
Claire’s neighborhood was about ten minutes outside of town proper—one of those quiet suburban streets that had sprung up in the nineties when Juniper falls had a brief optimistic growth spurt.
Her house was a blue colonial with Andy’s truck in the driveway and a basketball hoop that Henry took extremely seriously.
I pulled up and sat in the car for a second, trying to figure out how to say this, how to tell my sister… then my kid.
Maggie is pregnant. We’re together. We’re looking for a house.
I’d said all of those things out loud this morning and they were all true and I still wasn’t entirely used to the fact that my life had become all of this in approximately seventy-two hours. I tried to think back to when I’d told Claire about Nell, which had gone even faster.
I have a kid. Her mom wants me to take full custody.
Claire…she was used to this. She didn’t ever seem surprised when I jumped into something headfirst.
It would be fine.
I got out and knocked on the door, Claire opening it about thirty seconds later.
Their mutt, Sammy, wagged his tail as he circled around our legs, where he would inevitably bark until I gave him the attention he very much deserved.
I took the excuse to kneel down and pet the dog rather than have this conversation, Claire walking into the kitchen.
“I was just making brownies,” she said. “Andy took the kids to the park.”
“I’m not in any rush,” I said. “Wanted to talk to you first, actually.”
“Is this about Miss Laine?” she asked.
I froze right there in the entryway. “Why do you ask?”
She snorted, peeking around the corner. “You really thought Nell wasn’t going to lose her mind over the fact that Miss Laine made her pancakes yesterday and that she said she could call her Maggie?”
I stood with a sigh, rubbing my hands on my thighs.
“Well…I guess it feels stupid when you put it that way.”
Claire laughed. “Oh, and it gets worse. She also said it was, you know…a little weird that Maggie was wearing Daddy’s shirt?”
I closed my eyes.
“Come have a brownie,” Claire said.
I obeyed.
The kitchen was a mess—flour and chocolate chips all over the counter, piles of coloring pages and crayons on the table.
I sat down and started tidying them purely on dad instincts, stacking the coloring pages and putting the crayons away.
Claire was looking in the oven, the scent of brownies rolling out.
“What else did she say?” I asked.
“Mm…that you two were collecting buttons afterward,” she said. “Which—okay. Wow. Hot, good for the two of you, not necessarily something I needed to know.”
“Hey, maybe I just spilled some buttons.”
She gave me a withering glance. “I know you, Garrison Nash. I’ve watched you break enough hearts that it doesn’t surprise me when you’re tearing shirts open like it’s your job.”
“It was an accident.”
Claire closed the oven and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “So you’re together?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yup.”
She had to a double-take. “Like…actually. Not a fling.”
“Not a fling,” I said, then reached up to rub my jaw. “She’s pregnant.”
Claire’s eyebrows went up.
“She’s keeping it,” I said. “I want her to.”
“That’s fast.”
“It is.”
She turned back to the counter—then back to me. “Wait,” she said. “The school year only started like two months ago. She’s only been here for three.”
“We slept together the night Nell had a nightmare, when I came to pick her up from your place,” I said. “We’ve been dancing around each other ever since.”
Claire checked the brownies again. I think she was just looking for something to do.
Then: “Are you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been,” I said, and it was true.
When Claire turned back around, she had a giant grin on her face. “Then I’m happy for you,” she said. “Brownie?”
“The kids are gonna be mad they didn’t get one first.”
“They’ll get over it.”
She pulled the brownies out and we cut into them earlier than we should have; they were still gooey and steaming hot, melted chocolate chips sticking to our fingers. We sat at the table and ate them like little kids, laughing together.
“Glad you’re happy for me,” I said. “Now I just have to figure out how to tell Nell.”
Claire laughed. “Seriously?”
“Is that funny?”
She shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Nash…it does seem like a real conundrum. You have to tell your daughter that the woman she loves more than anyone else on this planet is going to be her mom and that she’s getting a baby sibling? Nell is gonna hate that.”
“This isn’t a joke,” I said. I realized there was brownie all over my hands and that it did make my point a little less effective. “It’s—what if I mess it up?”
“Nash, you’re like—the most naturally gifted dad I’ve ever known,” she said. “Don’t tell Andy.”
“You’re flattering me to make me feel better.”
“I’m not.” Claire cut another brownie. It was still messy, still too hot, and she hissed and dropped it back into the pan.
“Listen—Nell is a good girl who cares about you. She’s little, I know…
but the thing she’s most concerned about is that you’re happy.
She adores you, and maybe the only person she adores more is Maggie.
So when Nell comes back, you’re going to sit her down and tell her that you and Maggie are together. I mean…she already asked.”
I laughed in surprise. “What now?”
“Last weekend when you were tending bar and she was over for the night,” Claire said. “She asked if teachers can be someone’s mom. I told her of course, lots of teachers are moms, but it was very clear she had a specific teacher in mind.”
All of a sudden, Sammy started barking like mad—and I heard the front door open a second later, then Andy’s voice and the kids. “We’re home!” Andy called, then there were little feet running to us, lured in by the smell of brownies.
Rosie was first, very nearly slipping on the tile floor. She caught herself, though, coming up to the table with wide eyes.
“Mommmm,” she groaned. “You ate the first brownies?!”
“Well, I did make them,” Claire teased. “And I saved you the best corner.”
Rosie was still complaining when Nell hurtled in next, her eyes finding me right away. She flung herself into my arms and I caught her, hanging on tight. “Daddy!”
“Hey, sweetpea,” I said, breathing into her hair. I set her down on her feet and put my hands on her shoulders. “How was the park?”
“It was good, but I couldn’t bring Gerald so I wanted to come back,” she said. “You came to get me?”
“I sure did,” I said. “I wanted to tell you something important. How about you get a brownie then we can go talk in the living room?”
Nell looked at Claire. “Is it okay for me to eat in the living room?”
“Sure, honey,” Claire said. “I’ll get you a plate and a napkin. Just make sure not to give any to Sammy.”
We went through the motions; Claire got Nell all set, gave me the plate, and Nell led the way into the living room. Gerald was on the couch, where Nell sat right next to him, and I passed her the plate. She started to eat the brownie so delicately that I doubted she even needed a napkin.
And all of a sudden I was just…speechless.
Nell was already halfway done with her brownie when she had to speak up. “Are you okay, Dad?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m actually really, really good.”
“Because you had a brownie?”
“Yeah,” I chuckled. Then: “Well…partially. No.”
She looked at me, eyes sparkling like she was bracing for bad news. Like when I had to tell her her mom wasn’t coming for her birthday again.
I had to do this. And I needed to do it now.
“Remember how Maggie had breakfast at our house yesterday?” I asked.
Her face immediately brightened and she nodded. “Yep!”
“That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“She makes good pancakes,” Nell confirmed.
“She does,” I agreed. “She makes really good pancakes.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, looking at my daughter. “So here’s the thing, Nell. You know how some of your friends have a mom and a dad at home?”
She nodded, very serious now.
“Like Rosie has Aunt Claire and Uncle Andy,” I said. “And they both live in the same house.”
She nodded again.
“Right,” I said. “Well. Dad’s been on his own for a while. Just me and you.”
“And Gerald,” Nell said.
“And Gerald,” I confirmed. “But I’ve been thinking that maybe—maybe it would be nice if there was someone else. Someone who loves us both.”
Nell looked at me.
She looked at Gerald.
She looked back at me.
Then she said it almost reverently: “Maggie?”
I smiled. “Yeah. Maggie—she’s not just my friend. I wanted to be careful how I told you about her, but she’s actually my special friend, like Uncle Andy is with Aunt Claire.”
“Like you sleep in the same bed?”
I blinked, trying to keep my face from turning so red she would notice. “Uh…yeah. Like that.”
Nell looked at me.
Then her chin wobbled.
Then her eyes filled up.
I took the plate before she dropped it, putting it on the coffee table so I could catch her when she inevitably flung herself into my arms…
which she did about half a second later.
Her shoulders heaved as she bawled, tears wetting my shirt—so loud that Claire actually poked her head into the living room and asked if we were okay.
I nodded and mouthed yeah, we’re good.
Nell cried for a solid two minutes…but Nell was a cryer. I’d expected this; she cried when she was happy, when she was sad, when she learned something new, sometimes just because. I held her and rubbed her back in circles like I had when she was a baby, when I’d been learning on the go.
She was winding down when she said, muffled into my shoulder: “I’m so happy, Daddy.”
“Me too,” I said.
She pulled back, face streaked red, chin still wobbling. “I wanted her to be my mom so bad.”
“I know.”
“And now she’s going to—”
“She’s still Maggie, okay?” I said. “But…yeah, she’s going to come live with us, I think. Or at least spend a lot more time having breakfast with us.”
Nell nodded—then her breath caught. “Is she at home now?”
I smiled. “Yeah. She’s waiting for us.”
She brightened instantly. “Can we go see her?”
“I think she would love that.”