CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
I cross my arms over my chest. “Have you ever dated a single mother, Bryson?”
His confusion clears, but only a bit. “Not on purpose.”
I point at him. “That. Exactly. As soon as a guy finds out I’m a single mother, he either runs for the hills or starts filling out an application to be Harper’s daddy. I’m not looking to get married again, and men don’t seem to understand a single mother might like being single.”
“Why not?” The confusion is gone, but it’s been replaced by something worse. Something that looks a hell of a lot like pity.
“Because men don’t seem to understand that a woman can survive without a big strong man to sit on the couch and watch football all day.”
He snorts. “Nice. But I meant, why don’t you want to get married again?”
I stare at him pointedly. “I’m not doing this with you, Bryson. You can meet Harper, but you don’t get to dig into my personal life or be my friend.”
Wow. Okay. That came out harsher than I intended.
Bryson must still know me pretty well, because he doesn’t get offended. “Not every guy will be the chickenshit loser I was. There are some actual good guys out there. Better than a guy who’s content with casual and doesn’t put in enough effort to find out you have a daughter.”
I laugh, back on firm footing. “So quick to judge. He’s been building a cat gym for me. I haven’t given him much time to ask questions.”
“You have a cat?” Bryson says. Then he shakes his head. “Never mind. I should be more surprised you only have one cat. Didn’t you want a whole farm of animals when we got married?”
“I wanted a lot of things when we got married.” I can barely remember the na?ve, trusting idiot I was back then. I was so sure I had it all figured out, and I was dead wrong.
Bryson is oddly quiet as we walk around the block and back up the other side to his car and mine.
***
Mom smiles over at me as she pushes Harper on the swing, and I narrow my eyes, as if I can remind her with my facial expression to behave.
“I can’t believe she took the day off work for this,” I say to my father, who’s snapping pictures of Harper as she laughs and swings.
“Yes, you can.”
I sigh. “Yes, I can. Why can’t you trust me? I’m not going to let Bryson run off with Harper. He seems to sincerely just want to be a part of her life. I think he might have actually matured.”
Dad grunts. “I always believed Bryson had a good heart, so I can believe that. And I trust you. But he needs to understand exactly who’s going to be coming for him if he hurts you or Harper in any way.”
I roll my eyes, but I don’t bother to remind him that Bryson could out-walk them, much less outrun them.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, patting his arm. “I appreciate you having my back.”
“I’ve got your back too, sis.” Asher throws an arm over my shoulders and squeezes me close in a breath-stealing hug. “You’re lucky I happened to be heading out for a smoothie just in time to see you and the family here at the park. I’m a little hurt you didn’t invite me.”
I shove against his side, but he’s an immovable boulder of obnoxiousness. “I didn’t invite you because I don’t want you here.”
He gives me another squeeze and lets me go. “Don’t worry. I promise not to punch your asshole ex-husband anywhere he can’t recover from.”
I glare at my father. “You told him?”
Dad shrugs. “Bryson needs to see a united front, so he doesn’t get any ideas about taking off again.”
I face my brother and poke him in the chest. “Do not punch Bryson or I’m going to tell your sweet wife about the time you thought there was a ghost in your room.”
He shrugs. “It’s a good story. I’ve already told her from my perspective, but she’d probably enjoy your version too.”
Damn it. I forgot that nothing embarrasses my brother. “Please, Asher. I’m trying to give Bryson a chance. Don’t be a dick.”
He gasps and presses a hand to his chest. “I am only ever a gentleman,” he says in a weird accent somewhere between Australian and Russian.
“Sure,” I say, voice laced with sarcasm.
On the playground, Mom winces, and I immediately start toward her. She’ll never admit she needs a break or that she’s in pain, but she doesn’t argue when I tell her to let me take over pushing Harper.
Harper squeals with delight as I pull back the swing as far as I can because she knows what’s coming. I let go and give her a push for good measure, and she soars, laughing all the way.
She’s the kid who’s always asking to go higher and higher.
The day is sunny and cool, with a crispness in the air that means winter weather is waiting in the wings. It’s cold enough today to need a light jacket and to want to stay in the sun as much as possible. Someone somewhere is burning brush, a scent that means fall.
I see Bryson’s car as he parks on the street next to the playground. The small lot here is full, as is the playground.
It’s too beautiful a Sunday afternoon for anyone with kids to want to stay home.
And it’s about time for Harper to give up her swing and let someone else have a turn, anyway.
I grab the chains holding the swing and pull Harper to a stop.
“Not yet,” Harper says, a whine creeping into her voice.
“Harper.” I walk around the swing to face her, and I smile like this is the best news I’m ever going to give her. “There’s a new friend I’d like you to meet. He’s someone who’s been wanting to meet you for a really long time.”
She scowls. “I want to swing.”
Of course she does. I wonder again whether I’m handling this the right way. Should I have told her that she’s meeting her father today? I figured it’ll be better if she gets to know Bryson and to like him before I tell her he’s her dad, but maybe it’s wrong to blindside her like this.
“Hi there.” Bryson’s standing right behind me, and my time is up.
I pull Harper off the swing and gesture to the kid who’s been waiting to hop on.
Immediately, Harper starts to cry. “That’s my swing.”
I walk away. “It’ll still be there in a little while, and you can have another turn. Right now, would you like to go on the nature trail and show our new friend how good you are at finding pretty rocks?”
She sniffles. “I want to swing.”
“I love pretty rocks,” Bryson says.
If I’d been expecting a big reaction from Harper at seeing her father for the first time, I’d have been dismally disappointed.
Harper just smiles at him the way she smiles at everyone. She definitely got her charm and sunny personality from Bryson and not me. “I find the best rocks,” she says.
He smiles back at her, and I can see in his eyes that he’s fallen hard for her already. “I’m not so good at finding good rocks,” he says.
Harper frowns, seriously concerned about his lack of skill. “I’ll teach you.”
She wiggles out of my arms, and I put her down. She immediately reaches for Bryson’s hand, and I feel a bewildering mix of emotions.
I’m happy she’s comfortable with Bryson, but I’m also weirdly feeling left out. Like Harper might prefer the man whose personality matches her own. I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s primal and impossible to erase.
I’m also thinking I need to have another talk with Harper about stranger danger. I did introduce Bryson as a friend, but maybe she should ask me before leading a man she just met into the woods.
Which is also silly.
I’m a mess.
“Bryson,” my father says, extending his hand, my mother on one side, Asher on the other. “Nice of you to finally show up around here.”
Bryson can’t quite manage to swallow the smile he’s been wearing since Harper took his hand. “I’m going to do better. I’m sorry for what I did to you and your family. I’m going to make it up to you.”
Dad squeezes Bryson’s hand hard enough that Bryson winces. “You will or you’ll be talking to me. And I have friends who know how to make a body disappear.”
“Fair enough,” Bryson says. “With all due respect, I’m more afraid of Amelia than I am of you. I only want to do what’s best for her and Harper.”
“You better,” Asher says. “Or you’ll be dealing with me too.” His arms are crossed over his chest, and Asher’s doing an impressive job of glaring at Bryson, but anyone who knows Asher at all knows he’s just a big teddy bear.
“It’s good to see you, Asher,” Bryson says. “That your gym down the street.”
Asher’s glare slips the tiniest bit. “It is,” he says in a careful tone.
“It looks really nice,” Bryson says. “You do any kind of training there? I want to run my first marathon next year.”
As though he’s totally forgotten he’s supposed to be suspicious of my ex, Asher grins. “That would be wife Clover’s department. She’s training a few groups that are planning to run long-distance races. It would just depend on your fitness level and—”
“Come on,” Harper whines, pulling on Bryson’s hand.
“You go,” Mom says, patting Bryson’s shoulder. “The money was a good start, but don’t think you’re off the hook with me either.”
“I don’t expect to be,” Bryson says, looking back over his shoulder as he lets Harper pull him toward the woods.
“Harper, stop pulling on Bryson,” I say. “We’re coming.”
No way am I leaving Bryson alone with Harper, even if the nature trail is only about a quarter of a mile long and visible from the playground.
“Have you found a lot of good rocks here?” Bryson asks as Harper leads him onto the trail, which is shaded by trees.
“Momma doesn’t let me keep them.” Harper crouches at the edge of the trail and picks up a rock, studies it and drops it back onto the dirt. A reject.
“If we take all the rocks, there won’t be any for the other kids,” I say.
“The other kids take rocks.” Harper glares up at me, ready to have the well-worn fight again.
What she doesn’t know is that her grandfather regularly plants rocks he finds on job sites on this trail.
It wouldn’t hurt anything for me to let her take her treasures, but we like to go hiking in the mountains and our rule is to take only pictures.
I have to stay consistent even if this trail is regularly stocked with non-native rocks.