Chapter 7
A Chance?
Maliyah
The call came the day after the playground encounter.
Zoe perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, legs swinging, while I battled the mass of curls that had knotted overnight.
The comb snagged on another tangle, and she winced.
My fingers worked methodically, patiently separating each springy coil.
So different from Lucas's almost straight strands.
His hair portrayed no hint of his father's tight, thick-textured curls.
I'd spent countless nights watching online tutorials, learning to twist and braid and seal in moisture.
Yet this morning, her hair seemed to have a mind of its own.
"Ow, Mama! You're pulling too tight!" Zoe squirmed on the bathroom counter, her legs kicking against the cabinet doors.
"Sorry, baby. Almost done." I loosened my grip on the hair tie, trying to find the sweet spot between secure and comfortable. "There. You look beautiful."
Zoe twisted to examine herself in the mirror, moving her head back and forth while patting her new pigtails with approval. "Can I have the sparkly clips too?"
"Just one on each side. We're saving the others for special occasions."
As soon as I clipped it in, my phone buzzed on the counter, and I glanced at the screen. Reed Morrison. My stomach did that stupid flutter thing it always seemed to do when I saw his name.
"Alright, sweetie, go and play. Mama will clean all this up."
I helped Zoe down from the counter and stepped into the hallway before answering. "Hello?"
"Hey, Maliyah. It's Reed."
"Hi." I tried to keep my voice neutral, even though I was still feeling weird about how awkward things had been at the park.
"Listen, I wanted to call and see how you were.
And—Um—to apologize too. You know, for not calling and then.
.. for making things kind of weird. At the playground.
" He paused and cleared his throat. I could hear what sounded like traffic in the background.
"I feel like I acted like a complete idiot. "
"You didn't—"
"I did. And I wanted to explain." Another pause. "Would you maybe want to grab dinner? Tonight? Or maybe tomorrow? I know it's short notice, but I figured if I waited much longer I'd chicken out."
I found a small smile peeking on my face—despite my reservations. "You were going to chicken out of calling me?"
"Absolutely. I'm not exactly known for my smooth moves when it comes to... something like this."
"Something like this?"
"Yeah—like whatever this is we're doing. Or—I mean, what I’d like to be doing. that is to say—dating, I guess? I'm out of practice."
I leaned against the wall, watching Zoe through the open bathroom door as she carefully applied lip balm like it was the most important task in the world.
"Dinner sounds nice. But Reed, before we make plans, I need to know—are you okay with the fact that I have kids? Because the other day was weird and, you know—after coffee, when I didn’t hear from you.
I think I just assumed maybe my life may be a bit more than you’d want to handle right now.
If it is, that's fine, but I need to know now rather than a month in. "
"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." His voice got quieter, like he was moving away from wherever the traffic noise was coming from. "It's not that I'm not okay with it. It's just... complicated for me. I think I just want to be careful, you know?"
"Careful how?"
"Kids get attached, right? They start thinking about possibilities that might not be real. I didn't want Lucas and Zoe to get the wrong idea about what we were doing if we're just... you know—figuring things out."
I considered this. It wasn't the worst reasoning I'd ever heard from a man when it came to dating someone with children. In fact, it was kind of thoughtful, even if his execution had been awkward. It’d felt more like he was scared of them rather than wanting to protect them.
I was skeptical, so I asked, "So you were trying to protect them?"
"Trying to protect everyone, I guess. Including myself.
" He let out a breath. "Look, I'm not going to lie to you. The idea of getting in deep where there’s instant family terrifies me.
I've never been good at commitment, and I don't want to screw up something good because I'm afraid of something serious. "
At least he was honest. I had to give him points for that. "So what exactly are you suggesting?"
"Maybe we keep things between us for now? Get to know each other without involving the kids until we figure out if this is going somewhere. I know that probably sounds selfish—"
"It doesn't sound selfish. It sounds realistic." I watched Zoe wander into her bedroom, heard her start singing some song from a Disney movie. "I actually appreciate you being upfront about it. Most guys either run for the hills or try to be super-dad on the second date. Both options suck."
"So... dinner? Somewhere kid-free where we can actually talk?"
I found myself nodding even though he couldn't see me. "Yeah. Dinner sounds good. I’m sure my sister would be happy to watch the kids tonight and they’ve been asking for their cousin Macy. I’ll check with her and text you. But Reed?"
"Yeah?"
"I need you to understand that my kids aren't going away. They're always going to be part of the equation. So if you decide you can't handle that, please don't drag this out."
"I understand. And Maliyah? I don't want to hurt you. Any of you. I'm just trying to be honest about where I am right now."
"I appreciate that. More than you know."
We made plans for seven o'clock at a small Italian place downtown. After I hung up, I stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to figure out how I felt about the conversation.
"Mama!" Zoe called from her room. "I can't find my backpack!"
"Coming, baby!"
As I helped Zoe locate her backpack under a pile of stuffed animals, my mind replayed Reed's words.
I paused, holding her tiny purple water bottle, my thumb absently tracing the unicorn sticker that was starting to peel at one corner.
The careful way he'd said "kids get attached" had surprised me—so far the couple of men I’ve been out with either pretended my children didn't exist or tried too hard with exaggerated high-fives and forced enthusiasm.
I zipped Zoe's lunch into the front pocket and exhaled slowly.
Still, something in his careful phrasing made my shoulders tense, like when someone starts a sentence with "No offense, but.
.." before saying exactly what will offend you.
I sighed, I was overthinking it, I knew that.
"Mama." He adjusted his backpack straps. "Are worried about something? You have that look."
"What look?"
"The look you get when you're thinking about something but don't want to tell us what it is."
Sometimes my six-year-old was too perceptive for his own good. "Not worried about anything, but I might go out with a friend for dinner tonight. You and Zoe would stay with Aunt Felicity."
"Who’s the friend? Is it the detective?"
I should have known he'd remember. "What if it were? Would that be okay with you?"
Lucas shrugged. "I guess. As long as he's not going to be our new dad or something. I don't need a dad."
The matter-of-fact way he said it made my chest tight. "Nobody's going to be your new dad unless you want them to be, okay? And even then, it’s not something we need to worry about today."
"Good. Because I think we’re fun without anyone else."
Zoe bounded into the kitchen at that moment, backpack bouncing against her back. "I'm ready! Can we have pancakes for breakfast?"
"We're having cereal today, baby. We're running late."
"But I don't like cereal!"
"You liked it yesterday."
"Yesterday was yesterday. Today I want pancakes."
I poured cereal into two bowls, added milk, and set them on the table. "Today we're having cereal. Tomorrow we can talk about pancakes."
“No, mama! I don’t want it!”
“Zoe, we need to get moving. It’s cereal or a plain hardboiled egg with an apple.” I took out the baggie of eggs I prep for the week which I know she hates.
Zoe sighed dramatically but climbed into her chair. "Fine. But I'm going to tell Aunt Felicity that you're hiding away all the fun food."
"I'm sure you will."
As the kids ate breakfast, I found myself watching them and thinking about Reed's words.
He was right that kids got attached quickly.
Lucas had already been through the disappointment of his father leaving.
Zoe didn't even remember Jacob, but that didn't mean she wouldn't notice if another man disappeared from our lives, though.
Keeping things separate for now is what I would have done anyways.
After dropping Lucas at school, I called my sister and confirmed she’d watch the kids.
Macy would be over the moon, she said. I let Reed know and I spent the rest of the day at work trying not to think about dinner.
Three client meetings, a staff check-in, and a phone conference with our insurance provider about coverage for new trauma therapy programs. I was slammed, so eventually I forgot about anything that had to do with Reed and all the unanswered questions.
As the end of my day approached, I caught myself staring at the same spreadsheet for twenty minutes without processing a single number. My cursor hovered over the "save" button three times before I finally shut down my computer and grabbed my purse.
Back home, I got the kids settled with dinner and went to get ready. Standing before my closet, I moved hangers aside with increasing force, then starting the search all over again. Nothing looked right. I texted Felicity a selfie of me in a sad, baggy, black dress and three question marks.
Thirty minutes later, my doorbell rang. Felicity burst in with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, Macy trailing behind with a tote stuffed with markers and construction paper.
"Extra half hour of bedtime," I whispered as Felicity unzipped the bag. "Non-negotiable terms. My kids better not be up when I get home—favorite aunt status or not!"
I sorted through the ridiculous number of options Felicity brought and settled on the perfect one.
The deep blue wrap dress hugged my hips in a way that made me pause before the mirror.
I smoothed the fabric over the curves that three decades, two pregnancies, and countless late-night ice cream sessions had sculpted.
Felicity whistled low, circling me with narrowed eyes.
"Turn," she commanded, twirling her finger.
"Again. Slower." She looked me over, “Damn, you look hot.”
“Yeah, I do!” And I did. I looked hot. Reed Morrison, eat your heart out.
Felicity asked, “Are you nervous?”
"A little. It's been a little while since I've been on an actual date—like with dinner in a restaurant where they deliver food to your table instead of you getting it at the counter."
"You'll be fine. Just remember to ask him questions about himself. Men love talking about themselves."
"That's cynical, even for you."
"Not cynical. Practical. Trust me on this one."
I kissed the kids goodbye, promising to be home before they went to bed, and went down to my car. I’d asked to meet him there rather than have him pick me up, so I climbed into my car and started off toward downtown to meet.
I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my fingertips tingling against the worn leather as I caught myself checking my lipstick in the rearview mirror at every red light.
The car felt suddenly too warm despite the evening chill, and I cracked the window, letting the cool air brush against my flushed cheeks.
It was going to be a good night. I felt it in my bones.