Chapter 11 #2
I checked myself.
Heart faster than it needed to be.
Shoulders tight.
Nothing broken.
“Yeah.”
Nora put down her taco.
“You’re dating Piper?”
There it was.
I looked at her.
She was not upset.
She was not pleased either.
She was asking because adults had said something she wanted translated.
“I’m seeing Piper,” I said. “Rafe and Gray are too.”
Nico looked delighted by the existence of complexity.
“All three?”
Rafe said, “Grown-up conversation, buddy. Eat your taco.”
“I am eating my taco.”
“Do it more quietly.”
June looked at Piper.
“Do you have three boyfriends?”
Gray said, “June.”
Piper lifted one hand.
“It’s okay.”
Then she looked at all three kids.
“We’re figuring out what to call it. But yes, I care about all three of your dads.”
June accepted that with the same expression she used for weather.
Nico asked, “Does that mean more birthdays?”
“No,” Rafe said.
“Then I don’t see the point.”
Gray closed his eyes.
Nora did not laugh.
She looked at me.
“Can we talk later?”
My chest tightened.
“Yes.”
That was all.
No public processing.
No making her reassure me because I had decided to change the shape of her home.
We finished dinner.
At eight thirty, after showers, after June had been delivered back to Leah because Wednesday was not Gray’s overnight, after Nico had been collected by Dani, after Mango had been returned to his cage and accused everyone of theft, Nora sat on the edge of her bed in purple pajamas while I stood in the doorway.
“Close it,” she said.
I did.
She picked at a loose thread on her quilt.
“Is Piper replacing Mom?”
There were questions I had planned answers for.
That was not one of them.
I sat in the desk chair across from her.
“No.”
Nora looked up.
“Never.”
My voice came out rougher than I intended.
I tried again.
“Your mom is your mom. Piper isn’t here to take her place. Loving somebody now doesn’t change what I had with your mom, and it doesn’t change what you had with her.”
Nora’s eyes went shiny.
Mine probably did too.
I let that happen.
She looked toward the framed photograph on her dresser. Hannah on the beach with Nora at four, both of them sunburned because apparently I had once been less effective at sunscreen enforcement.
“Do you love Piper?”
I could have told her adults needed time.
I could have protected myself with uncertainty.
Nora deserved better than a technical answer.
“I’m getting there.”
Her eyes came back to mine.
“Does she know?”
“Probably. She notices everything.”
That got a tiny smile.
Then it disappeared.
“Is she leaving when the job is done?”
There was the real question.
I leaned forward, forearms on my knees.
“I don’t know yet.”
Nora’s face closed a little.
“Okay.”
“But if anything changes, we tell you. Piper already promised she isn’t going to disappear without saying goodbye. I promise that too.”
Her shoulders loosened by a fraction.
“Okay.”
I waited.
She picked at the thread again.
“Is it weird that Rafe and Gray like her too?”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because nobody had asked me the question that plainly.
“Yes.”
Nora looked surprised.
“It is?”
“For me. Sometimes. We’re figuring that out too.”
“Do you fight?”
“Not about that so far. We talk. Sometimes badly.”
“Rafe talks a lot.”
“That is one of the problems.”
She smiled again.
Then she stood and crossed to the dresser.
“I finished the marina picture.”
Subject changed.
Conversation over because she decided it was.
She handed me the drawing she had said she wanted to make for Piper’s cottage.
The marina. Tide & Timber’s storefront. Three boats with questionable perspective. A tiny blue-and-gold bird sitting on the sign.
No adults.
No declaration about family.
Just a picture for Piper’s office.
“It’s good,” I said.
Nora shrugged, trying not to care.
“She can have it if she wants.”
“Ask her tomorrow.”
“I will.”
I kissed the top of her head.
“Night.”
“Night, Dad.”
I closed the door behind me and stood in the hallway for several seconds.
I had thought the hard part would be wanting Piper.
It wasn’t.
The hard part was letting wanting her become visible enough to affect other people and then accepting that I could not manage every reaction.
Downstairs, the back door opened.
Piper came in from the cottage carrying her laptop and a small stack of memory cards.
She saw me on the stairs.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Nora?”
“Okay.”
Piper waited.
I came down.
“She asked whether you’re replacing Hannah.”
Piper’s face went still.
“What did you say?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I stopped in front of her.
“She asked if I love you.”
Piper inhaled.
There.
My turn to make someone else uncomfortable.
“And?”
“I told her I’m getting there.”
Piper stared at me.
The house hummed around us. Refrigerator. Air conditioner. Mango shifting under his cage cover.
“That’s annoyingly honest,” she said.
“I’ve been told.”
Her laptop hit the side table with more force than necessary.
Then she kissed me.
Both hands on my face.
No warning.
I caught her waist.
The kiss deepened fast enough that I forgot where I had planned to put my hands and settled for everywhere I was allowed.
Piper backed me against the wall beside the stairs.
“This is aggressive,” I said against her mouth.
“You like aggressive.”
“That’s Rafe.”
“Household contagion.”
I kissed her again.
Her body pressed into mine.
Heat moved through me, immediate and familiar now.
Not safe.
Never safe.
Still worth wanting.
Piper pulled back first.
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket.
She ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Then a third time.
She closed her eyes.
“If that’s Rafe sending another seafood meme, I’m blocking him.”
“He’ll use Nico’s phone.”
“Terrifying.”
She pulled the phone out.
The humor left her face.
I knew before I saw the name.
“Evan?”
Piper nodded.
Not frightened this time.
Angry.
She opened the message.
Her eyes moved across the screen once.
Then again.
“What?” I asked.
She handed me the phone.
The message was short.
Hey. Heads up before this gets awkward through mutual contacts.
I’m shooting the Sutton-Reed wedding at Mercy House in two weeks.
Three-day event. I didn’t know you were working in Cape Mercy when we booked it.
I’m not trying to make anything weird. Maybe we can get coffee while I’m there and clear the air like adults.
I read the last sentence twice.
Clear the air like adults.
The kind of phrase that sounded reasonable until you noticed it assigned Piper another job.
My jaw tightened.
Piper took the phone back.
“You don’t have to meet him.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
I had almost made the mistake.
Telling her what to do because protecting felt easier than watching her choose.
I corrected it.
“What do you want?”
Piper looked at the message again.
Then she locked the screen.
“I want to finish my edits. I want to send the Raleigh family their preview tomorrow. I want to shoot your Friday charter, and I want Evan Markham to discover that my calendar is not an annex of his life.”
My chest loosened.
“Coffee?”
“No.”
No hesitation.
She put the phone on the side table beside her laptop.
“If he needs something professional, he can email my business address. If he wants to clear the air, he can enjoy the atmosphere without me.”
I smiled.
Piper narrowed her eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Occupational hazard.”
She hooked a finger into my shirt.
“You know he’s still coming here.”
“I know.”
“You know he’s going to see us.”
There it was.
Not just him seeing her.
Us.
I looked toward the dark windows.
Two weeks.
Plenty of time to get used to the idea.
Not enough time to make it safe.
“Good,” I said.
Piper’s eyebrows rose.
I touched her face.
“I’m done pretending wanting you is something I need to hide from weather.”
Her expression softened.
Then Mango shouted from under his cover, “MINE!”
Piper closed her eyes.
I looked toward the living room.
“Still wrong.”
“Bad idea!” Mango yelled.
Piper started laughing.
I kissed her forehead.
Evan Markham was coming to Cape Mercy.
For the first time, the thought did not make me want to put Piper behind me.
It made me want to stand beside her and let her decide what happened next.