Chapter 18
eighteen
LIAM
Maya has been expertly avoiding me for almost a week.
It’s actually impressive considering she is living in my house. But I haven’t had a moment alone with her since she woke up in my bed, in my arms and immediately fled.
It was a surprise to me, too, when I woke up cuddling her, but I enjoyed it too much to worry about how it happened. It felt too right.
Today, she’s out of luck. We’re cooking Thanksgiving dinner together. She agreed via text. And she doesn’t know that I’ve enlisted Ezra to keep Poppy out of the kitchen for a few hours. Maya has nowhere to hide.
So it’s no surprise to me when the first words out of her mouth are, “Where’s Poppy?”
“Ezra took her to the animal sanctuary. We have a lot of work to do, and she loves to be a distraction.”
I grin at Maya’s reaction, her eyes darting around the room like some piece of furniture can save her. I grab an apron and toss it to her, but she barely registers what she’s doing.
“Maya, what’s going on?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Her words come out a little too quick, flustered. She even starts pacing around the island.
“You’ve been avoiding me all week. You—” I place my hands on her shoulders and stop her from moving. “You won’t even look at me.”
That gets her attention. Her eyes finally focus but anxiety still pours off of her in waves. She bites her lip.
“Can I see your legs? Umm, please?”
“My legs?”
“Mhmm.”
Nothing with her is ever boring, that’s for sure.
“Didn’t realize you were a leg girl. I could’ve been wearing shorts for weeks if you would’ve told me.”
“Ha ha,” she deadpans. “Just show me your legs.” I raise a brow at her. “Please.”
I unbutton my jeans and slide them down, never taking my eyes off her. It looks like she’s holding her breath and I have never been more confused.
Once they’re off, she gasps. Her eyes are fixed to my tattoos, but I can’t tell if she’s admiring them or?—
“What’s your favorite holiday?” she asks, the question shooting out of her mouth like a bullet.
“I’m sorry, is the pantsless portion of this morning over? What is going on, Bloom?”
“Just, please answer. Favorite holiday?”
“Fourth of July. Why?”
“Holy shit,” she whispers, just as she falls onto one of my kitchen stools.
Assuming she’s seen what she needs to, I put my jeans back on. Then I join her on one of the other stools.
“Can you please tell me what is going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
Her eyes catch on mine and widen, huge pools of molten honey.
“I think…I think I remember. Or, not fully, but like, a little bit.”
“Me?” I ask. “You remember me?”
“Only a snapshot. But, yeah. I had a dream. And I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it felt so real. And when I woke, I realized I’d never seen the vine tattoos before, so if they were real then it must have been a memory, right?”
“They’re poppies.”
“Huh?”
“The tattoos on my legs. It’s a field of poppies. I got them after her mom left us. When I realized it was just going to be me and Poppy. She…grounds me.”
“Wow, that’s really beautiful.” Her gaze softens on my face and her shoulders relax for the first time all morning.
“So what does this mean? Do you think you’ll remember more?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never had a wish unravel before. They’ve always come true and stayed that way. I have no idea what’s going on. It’s like I can’t trust my own mind.”
“Hey.” I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. She looks petrified. “It’s gonna be okay. Maybe it’s not possible to forget me anymore, now that we met again. Now that you know what happened. Maybe it’s a good thing.”
“Maybe,” she murmurs.
I pull back, place my hands on either side of her face. “Does this mean you’ve seen me naked now too?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Good. I’m looking forward to the next time.”
She makes a choking sound as I stand up and head toward the fridge. I’m not sure what her remembering me means but I can’t stop myself from grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.
As much as I’d like to tease her about this all day, I do have a massive meal to put together. With Ezra’s parents joining us, I have seven adults and two kids to cook for. I got most of the prep work done yesterday, but I’ll still have to stick to a tight schedule. Especially since Theo wants to eat by three o’clock. I’ve never understood the early bird holiday supper times, but since he has to run the big tree lighting ceremony at the village tonight, I’ll give him a pass.
“All right, Bloom. Can you be trusted with an immersion blender?”
I finally face her again, still smiling like an idiot because I don’t know how to stop.
“That depends. Can you explain what it does?”
She smirks back at me, and I’m grateful the awkwardness from earlier is over. Flirting with her in my kitchen is easy.
I help her tie on the apron and walk her to the stove. Pull out the squash I roasted last night and show her how to blend it right in the pot with the broth.
“Can you do that until it’s smooth?”
“That’s it?” She pouts. “I thought I’d get to do something more exciting than press a button.”
“It’s still early. If you’re a good girl and follow my instructions, I’ll let you torch the crème br?lées later.”
Her eyes dance and she turns the immersion blender back on.
“Yes, chef.”
Maya is a pretty good sous-chef.
Well, she’s a good assistant. For someone who knows so much about food, she truly knows nothing about cooking. But she has a great palate and really surprised me with her seasoning abilities.
Now that dinner is wrapping up, I find myself a little disappointed it’s over. I had more fun cooking with her today than I have in a long time. But that’s the magic of Maya. Even two years ago, she was the first person in years to make me laugh.
Poppy’s done a lot to soften me since then, so has this town and my new friends, but there’s still been something missing. I assumed it was my old life, being an award winning chef versus pushing burgers at the diner, but now I think I’ve had it all wrong.
There’s more than one way to be happy, to have a sense of fulfillment. And that’s exactly what I felt today, teaching Maya how to use a blow torch, watching her taste each dish and glow with pride knowing she helped create it.
I make a mental note to ask Theo about teaching cooking classes. He’s always looking for more activities to add to the village, especially during the off-season. I should also probably get back to my agent about the cookbook I keep blowing off. Maybe I could ask Maya to help me do recipe testing, make sure they’re beginner-friendly.
“Yummy yummy yummy in my tummy tummy tummy ,” Poppy repeats for the thousandth time today. She’s decided Thanksgiving cannot end until she gets baby Stevie to learn the phrase.
Stevie babbles back something that sounds more like “ya ya ya on my taco,” but we all act impressed, hopeful that Poppy finally feels victorious.
“Well, we better start heading back. Forecast says we’re getting up to eight inches tonight,” Ezra and Ellie’s dad announces. “This was a damn good dinner, Liam. Thanks for having us.”
“Of course. You’re welcome any time. And I still want that brisket recipe, Judy. Ezra swears mine can’t compete.”
“We’ll see,” she teases.
Everyone says their goodbyes and Theo starts to rearrange the furniture. Since neither of us had a big enough table for everyone, he and Ezra carried theirs over here.
The guys help me clean up while Maya joins Ellie on the couch where she’s been most of the day. It’s clear she’s in rough shape and I know we are all struggling with how to help her.
She decides to skip the tree-lighting ceremony tonight but keeps urging Theo to take Stevie without her. Even though Ezra offers to stay home and keep Ellie company, it’s obvious to everyone how uneasy Theo is.
It’s impossible not to feel for Theo. He’s crushed that he has to do this without his wife. Ever since I moved here, it was clear how much this village means to them. Every big event, they are together, a fixture in Sugar Valley. They’re the kind of couple, the kind of family everyone aspires to be.
“I’ll stay back tonight too,” Maya offers, handing Ellie another pillow. “Snow is so much more enjoyable through a window anyway.” She gestures to the glass where fat flakes have already started coming down.
I want to argue. I’ve been looking forward to another activity with Maya, another excuse to be close to her. It’s been a month since we kissed but I cannot stop thinking about it.
“Noooo, you have to come!” Poppy cries. “You promised we would do crowns.” She lowers her voice into a sad whisper, morphs her lips into the pout she knows lets her get away with anything. My daughter is truly an evil genius. I should scold her for being manipulative, but not tonight. Tonight, we’re on the same team.
“You can’t break a promise, My. I’ll be fine,” Ellie concedes.
And just like that, it’s decided. “All right. But I need to borrow some gear.”
An hour later, Maya is dressed for a hike through the alps, and she and Poppy both have braided crowns adorning the top of their heads with little sprigs of fake cranberries woven in. They’ve also taken dozens of selfies.
I’ve got to hand it to Theo. He really knows how to make the holidays feel magical. The lights haven’t even come on yet, and Poppy still ooh’s and aah’s her way through the entire walk through the village.
He and his staff spent most of today decorating. There’s less than an inch of snow on the ground, yet each storefront looks straight out of the north pole, glittering snow adorning each windowsill, ornaments hanging weightlessly all around.
And right in the middle of everything sits the forty-foot tree, just on the edge of the skating rink.
As the last glimmers of sun finally fade, the village slowly comes to life. Twinkling lights starting around the perimeter make their way around all the businesses. When the fairy lights circling the rink turn on, Maya gasps.
I grin, taking her hand in mine, wanting to share the moment. Poppy’s huddling between us, still grinning from ear to ear.
Staff members float around the crowd, handing out cups of hot cocoa and apple cider. Maya takes a sip from her cup and leans into me a little closer. Maybe she’s cold, but I doubt it with the hundreds of layers she’s wearing.
“Glad you came?” I ask, my voice low in her ear.
“Really glad.” She squeezes my hand. “This is the kind of thing I used to dream of as a kid. I’ve been here for New Year’s but…this…” She trails off and I know exactly what she means. It’s hard to describe. “Poppy’s a very lucky girl,” is what she settles on. “To have you as a dad.”
All the breath I had whooshes out of me. I know I’ve changed. I know I’m not a bad father. I know I’m better than I was in the beginning. But still, hearing that from Maya does something to me. Her words settle deep in my bones, forcing me to believe them.
Maya might not remember, or not yet at least, but she was the first person I opened up to about my fears as a father. For some inexplicable reason, I found myself spilling every secret I had to Maya Bloom. In between sultry kisses and midnight snacks, I poured out my heart to her.
When Poppy’s mom was still around, I could pretend that financial support was good enough to make me a decent parent, that showing up when I could was icing on the cake. But after Chelsea left, and I still worked the unforgiving hours I did, I knew having a nanny do everything for me was wrong. I just couldn’t get myself to make a change.
And Maya understood. It turned out she didn’t see much of her parents growing up either, that they put work before her every time. She told me what it was like to be a kid who wanted for nothing, but found loneliness to be her closest friend. It broke my heart to think of Maya—this girl with a larger-than-life personality and a smile that could light up a planet—being alone, wishing for her family to be around.
I kept wondering, is that how Poppy will look back on her childhood? Is that how she’ll remember me?
I’ll never know how much that conversation with Maya influenced the changes I made. Poppy’s type 1 diagnosis accelerated any plan on its own. But now, I wonder if Maya will ever remember, if she’ll ever understand how much she’s affected me. Affected us .
Cheers erupt all around us as the tree lights up. Tiny sparks start at the bottom and gradually grow until we’re all bathed in the flickering light.
Maya suddenly drops my hand and rushes over to Theo. Stevie is sleeping deeply in his arms, but tears track down his cheeks. Maya hugs him, a fierce thing. She murmurs something in his ear that I can’t make out, then as she pulls away I catch her final words.
“Don’t you dare give up on her.”
Her boots crunch the now two inches of snow as she walks back to us and crouches down to get eye-level with Poppy.
“Ready?” Poppy nods and pushes up on her tip-toes.
Maya swoops her up just as she tells me to bend down. She places Poppy on my shoulders and grins widely at me, her eyes shimmering. She spins us until we’re facing away from the tree and starts snapping photos on her phone.
“For the Christmas card!” she shouts, offering suggestions on how we pose.
Poppy is giggling, her boots kicking against my chest.
A Christmas card? I’ve never even thought about doing that. I tamper down the urge to ask Maya to join the shot.