Chapter 21
Vivian
Tonight’s the family barbecue.
Which means Miles is coming over.
And my dad will be here.
Which shouldn’t make me this nervous, but it does.
It’s just a casual backyard thing. Burgers, beers, and my daughter probably running around barefoot in a princess dress.
Friends. Family. Laughter. That’s all.
And Miles…
Yeah. Just breathe, Vivian. It’s fine. Totally fine.
“Hey, Dad! Got the coal you needed—I’ll just leave it outside!” I shout toward the hallway as I carry the sack of coal, hearing faint footsteps upstairs. He’s probably knee-deep in a tea party or being held hostage by a stuffed animal council.
Sure enough, a moment later, his heavy steps thud down the staircase.
When he rounds the corner, I snort. Full-blown snort.
Because there he is by the kitchen door—my big, broad, gruff dad—wearing a sparkly tiara tilted sideways and a sheen of what I swear is pink lip gloss coating his top lip.
“Oh my god.” I burst out laughing, dropping the bag on the counter, “What happened to you?”
He grumbles something under his breath and swipes at his mouth. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer. That little girl’s more stubborn than a mule. Just like her mom.”
I’m still trying to catch my breath from laughing when the sound of tiny feet patters down the stairs.
Riley appears in full royal glory—fluffy dress, plastic pearls, wand in hand. She marches right over to my dad and plants her hands on her hips.
“Grandpa, Miss Peach is waiting! We can’t keep royalty waiting, come on!” she insists, tugging at his arm with the determination of a five-year-old on a mission.
He doesn’t even flinch. That man, former mechanic, six-foot something, grew up fixing cars and breaking noses, melts like butter when she looks up at him with those big eyes.
I crouch down to give her a kiss on her forehead, careful not to disturb her crown. “Hi, sweetie. What’s going on up there?”
“Hi, Mommy.” She grins, still tugging Dad’s arm. “We’re having another tea party because Miss Peach couldn’t come to the last one. She was busy being kidnapped by the Evil Wizard.”
“Again?” I gasp playfully.
Riley nods solemnly. “It’s serious, Mommy.”
“Oh, of course,” I say, pressing a hand over my heart. “Can’t have tea without Miss Peach.”
Dad groans good-naturedly, then leans into me as Riley skips ahead. “Better enjoy this while it lasts,” he mutters. “In a few years, she’ll be too cool for tea parties and want to talk about boys.”
I rub my dad’s shoulder with a soft smile. “Still got a few more years of this then,” I say, tilting my head as he gives me a mock sigh and wanders back to the land of tiaras and invisible tea.
I turn back to the bags of groceries on the floor and begin unloading them onto the counter; burgers, buns, ribs—that Dad will marinate soon with his special recipe—corn on the cob, and all the must-haves for a good backyard barbecue.
A double knock on the front door is followed immediately by it creaking open.
“Hey, Viv! I brought wine,” Mindy calls out, waving a bottle of white as she kicks off her shoes and heads toward the kitchen.
Just as she rounds the corner, we both hear my dad from upstairs—his voice unnaturally high-pitched, followed by an exaggerated gasp.
Mindy freezes mid-step and slowly turns to me, one eyebrow raised.
“Riley wanted a tea party,” I explain, trying and failing, not to laugh.
Mindy smirks, pure mischief lighting up her face. “Please tell me he’s dressed up.” She’s already pulling out her phone. “I need evidence.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” I warn, bracing myself against the counter as she tiptoes toward the stairs, her phone in her hand ready to capture her shot.
While she’s risking her life for the perfect blackmail photo, I finish setting out the food and start prepping the table outside.
I mentally double-check everything. Two extra mouths to feed tonight.
And not just any mouths—two ravenous, built-like-brick-wall men with appetites to match. I want to make sure there’s plenty.
Suddenly, a yell thunders through the house, which can only mean she’s been caught.
“Mindy! You get back here!” Dad’s voice booms just before the sound of thudding steps echoes down the hallway.
Mindy darts through the back door, giggling as she escapes into the yard. My dad charges after her but freezes when he spots me. He’s got fairy wings strapped to his back that look tiny on him, his tiara crooked, and there’s glitter stuck to one eyebrow.
“Don’t. Start.” He glares, points a finger at me.
I slap a hand over my mouth, shoulders shaking with the effort to hold in my laughter.
“That’s it,” he grumbles, tugging off the wings and tiara like they personally betrayed him.
Just then, Riley appears at the top of the stairs, arms folded, face full of sass.
“No!” she announces dramatically. “You are now banished from the tea party until you return with my favorite ice cream.”
She pauses.
“With extra M&Ms,” she adds before turning and stomping back up the stairs like a tiny queen dismissing her court.
Dad blinks. “Banished?”
Mindy pokes her head in through the sliding door, grinning like the troublemaker she is. “Looks like you’re NFI.”
We both turn to her, confused.
“NFI?” I echo.
“What?” Dad says at the same time.
Mindy rolls her eyes. “Not Flipping Invited. Duh.” She holds up her hand and cackles as she disappears back outside.
I shake my head, laughing now as I lean against the counter. This whole house might be a little chaotic today.
Once my dad disappears, probably off to apologize to Riley and scrub every trace of glitter from his skin, Mindy strolls back into the kitchen, still snickering at probably the picture on her phone.
“Oh, come on, Mindy,” I shake my head, pulling open a cupboard to grab the stack of plastic plates and cups. “You’re such a child.”
“Okay, okay, I’m helping,” she says between breathy laughs, slipping her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “But seriously, Viv. He looked like Dwayne Johnson in that fairy movie. I can’t unsee it.”
“Tooth Fairy?” I laugh, remembering the defeated look on my dad’s face as he ripped the tiara off.
“Yes! That one!” She points at me.
We each grab what we can and head outside, the warm afternoon sun hitting our skin as we step onto the deck. I take a second to breathe it in—the scent of fresh-cut grass, the distant hum of crickets, the clutter of Riley’s toys on the porch.
We start placing everything on the long wooden table Greg and Dad built last summer. It’s rustic and a little uneven, but it holds every plate and memory we’ve stacked onto it over the years. Birthdays. Late-night dinners. Sunday brunches with too many pancakes and too much syrup.
Mindy leans close as she sets down the cutlery. “So…Miles is coming today?”
I shoot her a look. “You already know the answer to that.”
She grins. “Just making sure you didn’t shy away from this one.”
I roll my eyes but feel my cheeks warm anyway.
“You’re blushing…aww.” She pokes my cheek, and I swat her hand away softly.
“You’re just as annoying as he is.” I shake my head.
“You deserve to blush about someone again.”
I don’t say anything for a beat. Just straighten a stack of napkins and watch Riley’s princess figurines dance across the porch railing.
“I guess,” I say softly, fussing with the last of the cutlery.
The table looks nice—simple but homey. I place the flowers Miles got me the night we went out—pale peach and soft blush.
It’s been a week and they’re still blooming so beautifully.
Full of color, still holding their shape and smell fresh.
Mindy catches sight of them and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. She doesn’t say a word—instead, her phone buzzes and breaks the silence.
“Greg says they’re heading this way in about twenty minutes,” she says, locking her screen, “You ready?”
I nod. “Yeah, I am.” But the second the words leave my mouth, her eyes scan me from head to toe. And not in a flattering way.
She tilts her head, her expression unimpressed. “Honey…you’re in sweatpants and a stained T-shirt.”
I blink. “So?”
“Did you even shower?”
I frown, sniffing the collar of my shirt. Okay. Maybe not as fresh as I thought. “You saying I stink?”
“I’m saying you look a little rough,” she deadpans, arms crossed. “You do not get to host something, especially for that fine man, and look like that.”
I huff. “I’ve been out all morning getting groceries, running errands. Sorry I didn’t walk the runway while shopping for burger buns.”
“Shower. Change. Go,” she says, already waving me off.
“Fine, fine, I’m going,” I mutter, making my way up the stairs. I’m so used to being around Riley, Dad, and Mindy that I forgot what it feels like to actually try.
“Mommy!” Riley calls from her bedroom, standing in the middle of her rug, twirling in her sparkly pink princess dress with the biggest grin on her face. “Do I look pretty?”
I smile, heart doing that annoying squeeze it always does when she looks at me like that. “You always do.”
“Okay, good,” she says matter-of-factly, smoothing her skirt. “Because I want to look nice for our guests.”
Then she gives me the look. The same one Mindy gave me. Except this one is with a little more sass and grimace as she notices the stains on my top.
I glance down at myself and let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I know. Mommy needs to go look pretty too.”
She nods like this is serious business before skipping off down the hall.
I hurry into the bathroom and turn the shower on, steam quickly filling the room. As I undress, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair’s in this messy bun I did this morning and didn’t bother to neaten up. Eyes tired, but my lips twitching into a smile I didn’t expect.
“They’re right, I do look rough,” I say with a soft laugh, studying my reflection before stripping off my clothes and tossing them into the laundry basket. I pull the hair tie from my bun and let my hair fall loose down my back and get in the shower.