9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Chloe
“I won! I won!” I throw my arms straight in the air, spinning in circles, shouting my victory cry. My competitive streak is alive and thriving.
Champ, wanting to join in on the celebration, puts his front paws on my stomach. I bend down to scratch behind his ears. Immediately, his wet tongue licks my nose. Champ, you silly dog .
Finn’s in front of me, a smile on his lips. “I think he wanted to spin with you.” Finn pets Champ.
“Me too.” I’m warming up to Finn’s presence. There’s no way I’m ready to babysit the kid or anything, but he’s fun. “Should we see if we can get him to follow us?”
Finn’s face lights up. “Yes!”
Finn runs in circles, with me following right behind him. Champ, excited and happy-barking, weaves between Finn and me, almost tripping us up.
“Come on, Champ,” Finn encourages .
A picture of me running around with a few kids and a dog in our backyard plants itself in my mind, taking root. The same longing I get whenever I watch those couple fitness videos crashes into my chest. The heaviness makes me rub a hand over my heart, willing the pain to go away.
I wish I could allow myself this dream. But how can I when my own parents weren’t around to lead by example? And what if I turn out just like that?
Purposely falling to the ground, I force out a laugh, forgetting about the heartache I’m experiencing. I’m better off being alone than messing up a child.
Finn follows my lead and spreads out like a starfish next to me. Champ, tongue lolling, bounces back and forth between my head and Finn’s, barking out his excitement.
Dawson stands over me, blocking the sun. Amusement dances in his eyes. “Having fun?”
Rolling my head to the side, I look at Finn, who’s grinning. “I am. How about you, Finn?”
“I want a dog, Dad.”
Dawson chuckles. “I’m sure you do.”
Finn sits up. “Can we get one?”
“Possibly.”
Finn turns to me, his bottom lip jutting out. “That means no.”
I prop up on my elbows. “You can play with Champ. My grandparents don’t have the energy to take him out as often as he needs. Champ would love the attention.”
Finn’s face lights up like I just told him it’s Halloween. “Really?” He turns to Dawson. “Dad, can we come back tomorrow? ”
“You have school and homework. Maybe we can come back another time, though.”
Finn frowns.
“How about you keep playing with Champ while your dad and I finish picking apples?”
Finn wraps his arms around Champ’s neck, burying his face in Champ’s fur. “Okay. Can we get lunch soon? I’m hungry.”
Dawson holds his hand out to me, offering to help me off the ground.
Placing my hand in his, I’m wholly unprepared for the sparks zipping up my nerve endings. I like the way my skin warms and how my palm is safely enclosed in Dawson’s.
But I can’t like it. Dawson has a kid and that’s a no-fly zone.
Dawson stares at our entwined hands. His brow furrows for a second before smoothing out again. Pulling, he yanks me to my feet with little effort on my part. I’m standing close to him now. Close enough, I catch a hint of a fresh, clean scent. Like he hung his shirt on a clothesline and the sun warmed the fabric. The smell is gentle, but addicting.
Back in college, I dated a guy who used half a bottle of cologne every day. I always had a headache after going out with him.
Breathing in deeply, I relish the apples, grass, and Dawson’s laundry-fresh scent. If I could bottle this up and smell it every September, I’d die a happy woman.
Dawson clears his throat, dropping my hand at the same time. “We should get back to picking. ”
Right, yes, apples. Not me luxuriating in how he smells. “Yes, we need to finish up,” I say, brushing the grass off my backside. Completely confused again over my body’s reaction to Dawson.
Dawson grabs the half-empty basket he set aside earlier, dragging it under the back of the tree where we haven’t gotten to yet. “Carter invited us again next weekend to the game, but for your sake, I declined.”
What? “You didn’t have to do that.” After soaking my shorts in stain remover overnight, they’re as good as new. My shoes didn’t make it though. I’m sad about those.
“We’re still settling into our house, and we came here today. I don’t want to wear Finn out by doing too much at once, you know?”
No, I don’t know what it’s like having a kid and being aware of what they can or cannot handle. And I never will. “I hope if Carter offers again, you’ll accept.”
Dawson snorts. “Yeah, sure. Getting soda spilled all over you is exactly the way you want to spend your next game day.”
I duck under the branches until Dawson’s face is fully in my line of sight. I need him to see the sincerity in my expression when I say, “You need to let it go. I promise I’m fine.”
“All right. Consider it forgotten.” Dawson picks another apple. “Finn may need to come with me for a lot of our festival planning. Is that okay?”
Before this morning? Absolutely not. Now? It’s fine. “No problem. As long as you stop acting like being around him is a burden. He’s a good kid.” Just clumsy .
“He is. But…”
Why is he hesitating? “Spill it,” I demand.
“Um… Well…I don’t trust easily.”
Ah. There’s a story behind that. “How come?”
He stares at the perfectly shaped green apple in his palm.
“If I’m diving too deep, you don’t need to answer.”
“No, it’s fine.” He drops the fruit into the bucket. “Uh. It’s because of my ex. I have a hard time believing other people when they say they like being around him. Willow, that’s Finn’s mom, she chose a music career over us.”
My heart hurts like it’s being crushed by a compactor. I’m stunned. What do you say to someone whose spouse chose a career over their partner and son?
Dawson’s a good dad for thinking of Finn and how he’s doing. I hate how I can relate to Finn. That I know how it feels to have a mom not want you. “Oh, Dawson. I’m sorry. That’s awful. How is Finn doing with the separation?”
He tugs another apple from a branch. “We’ve been busy the last few weeks, which has helped, I think. Willow sets aside time every Sunday morning to video chat with him. She doesn’t want to be a mom, but she also doesn’t want to be completely cut off from Finn. She loves him.”
Does she though?
Did Mom ever love me?
I’m not sure. It seems selfish to me to choose drugs or music or anything else over your own kid. But what do I know? I’m not a parent. The demands and stress might be too much for some people. Myself included .
I shut out any real possibility of love and a family out of fear because of Mom’s choices. Because I know what it’s like to grow up without a mom or a dad. It sucks.
“Does Finn have aunts and grandparents? And if so, are they nearby? You mentioned Finn swimming with cousins last week. Is that why you came to Utah?” I’m really digging to find out if Finn will have a mother figure in his life. Something I wish I’d had besides Grammy. But since Mom was an only child, Grammy was all I had. I’m grateful for her and all she did to raise Carter and me, but I would have loved more women in my life.
“Yeah. I have two sisters local and my parents live in Sandy. They’ve been supportive, and they’ve offered to have Finn over whenever I need a break or help.”
Relief courses through me. I’m grateful Finn has extended family to rely on. It doesn’t make up for Willow not being there, but at least it’s someone. “He’s a good kid. I bet they’re glad you guys are home.”
“He is for the most part. Like any child, he has his moments that frustrate me.”
I lean into the ladder, balancing on my tiptoes, stretching my fingers to get the apples just out of my reach.
“Are you sure it’s only kids who irritate you?” I ask, my brows rising.
There are plenty of adults I’d love to deliver a swift kick to the behind. Carter is often one of them.
Dawson chuckles. “No. My sisters are high on the list.”
“Am I bugging you yet?”
Dawson smiles at me. “Nope.”
“I guess I need to try harder to get under your skin. ”
“Is that all you’re trying to get under?”
Heat swirls low in my belly. “For now,” I say flirtatiously. Oh man, what am I doing? I should stop this before Dawson thinks I’m interested in him as more than a co–festival planner.
Dawson, thankfully, changes the subject. “What do you want for lunch?”
“I’m not sure. Are you in the mood for anything in particular? Or what’s something you know Finn would eat?” He’s the real variable in this equation.
Dawson’s head tilts from side to side like he’s weighing options. “I’m not craving anything in particular. We can see what Finn wants. But I’ll warn you, it will most likely be pizza or a hamburger.”
Neither are the healthiest, but I can make those work. “Sounds good to me.”
We pick apples until Finn’s complaints about being bored and hungry grow as big as the trees we’re working on. “Let’s call it a day. We’ve done quite a bit,” I say, counting the baskets we filled. Sixteen. Not too shabby for a few hours of work.
“Finn,” Dawson says. “What are you feeling like for lunch?”
“Pizza!”
Dawson shoots me a told you so smile.
I smile back, acknowledging he knows his son.
“What’s your favorite kind, Finn?” I ask. I like veggie or barbeque chicken, but I don’t think Finn’s answer will be either of them.
“Pepperoni! ”
Figures. “Sounds yummy,” I say, though I’m totally getting myself the kind I prefer. “Carter! Kate!” I holler. “Lunch time!”
The two climb down from the ladders they’re using, huge smiles on their faces. I’m in awe of how Kate can get Carter to smile like that.
“What are we having?” Kate asks, coming to where Finn, Dawson, and I are standing, draping an arm around my shoulder.
“Pepperoni pizza!” Finn says excitedly.
“Sounds delicious!” Kate says. “Where from? Are we ordering in?” She makes eye contact with each adult, waiting for an answer.
“I haven’t been to The Pie in a really long time,” Dawson says, shrugging. “Anyone up for that?”
“I don’t have time.” Carter shakes his head. “Let’s order delivery from Papa John’s and then we can do The Pie for lunch during the week.”
“Sounds great to me,” Dawson says. “Does anyone want anything besides pepperoni? I lost the bet today, so I’ll pay for the pizza.”
Carter puts his hand up. “This is a work function. I’ll buy.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”
“I appreciate the offer, Dawson, but this one is on me.”
“Great!” I say, interrupting before either man can reiterate who is covering the bill. I don’t care, but we need to get Finn food before his complaints grow as loud as a crowd at a football game. I pull out my phone, “I have the website pulled up. One pepperoni, a veggie, and a combo?”
“A side salad and breadsticks too,” Carter says .
“You got it.” I enter in all the necessary info then hand my twin my phone to put in his credit card number.
“It will be here in thirty minutes.” Carter hands me my cell. “Should we slice up a few of these apples while we wait?”
“If we’re planning on serving these at the festival, we definitely need to taste test them first.”
“Great idea,” Dawson says.” I’m sure Finn would appreciate eating something now as well.”
We all head inside, snacking on apples while we wait for the pizzas. After lunch, we move the baskets down to Grammy and Papa’s under-porch storage to keep them cold until we’re ready to use them. Kate, Dawson, and Finn say their goodbyes then Carter and I get ready for dinner with Grammy and Papa.
I happily check off picking apples on my festival To-Do List.
Next up: finalizing the venue.