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“I’ve got something for you. Don’t leave! I’ll be right back!”
I run to the kitchen and take the glass top off Mom’s cake plate. I take two of the pumpkin shortbread bars from inside, then turn in a circle trying to think of something to put them in. I settle on a plastic baggie, carefully put them both in, then run outside.
Hope is buckling Charly into her seat when I get there. I shove them toward her. “Here. Dessert. It’s pumpkin shortbread cookies, and they’re delicious.”
“Thank you?” Hope gives me a quizzical look.
“So the night doesn’t end on a completely bad note.” My chest rises and falls, and I try not to look directly in her eyes, because my heart is threatening to explode.
Her lip curves into a sad half-smile. “The night was great, Seb. This is just what it’s like to have a kid. This kind of thing is the norm, not the exception.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. The idea of having another night like tonight threatens to make my whole body break into a sweat.
“This is what I was trying to warn you about, Seb.” Hope takes my hand and squeezes it. “It’s a lot.I’ma lot. Charly and I are a package deal, so I totally get it if you’re not ready for that.” She pauses, takes a deep breath, then forces me to meet her gaze. “But I hope you won’t give up.”
She rises on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.
And I want to be able to tell her with the same surety as I did the first time that I’m not giving up.
But those words get lost in the feeling of failure washing over me. How can I do so many things right—my business, my music, my desserts—but I can’t get anything right when it comes to Hope and Charly.
I’m not sure I’m ready to take a chance if I don’t have what it takes to be a dad.
Chapter 18
Hope
I’ve taken to stopping at Britta’s every morning on my way to dropping off Charly at Gia’s preschool. She likes the hot chocolate—lukewarm, with lots of whipped cream—and I like the coffee. Any flavor. It’s all delicious.
But this morning I order an americano, triple shot of espresso, because Ineeda jolt of energy if I’m going to make it through this day. I wish I had time for an order of ebelskiver to split with Charly over a leisurely breakfast. Maybe this weekend, but my day is booked, and I was up late last night and early this morning.
So I grab our order, wave goodbye to Britta, and lead Charly back to the car. We pass a woman wearing a tinfoil hat feeding squirrels in the parking lot and I like that I know this is Lynette, who Evie and Seb have both mentioned, but I’ve never seen her before. But I smile like we’ve met because she’s the reason Evie knew Adam had a big heart buried under his grumpy exterior, and I make a note to ask Evie about that story again.
I think about Adam being kind to Lynette as I help Charly buckle herself—this is progress—into her seat. And I remember how Seb, in the middle of all his frustration with the squirrels, didn’t say anything mean about Lynette, only that she fed them too much.
So often it’s the little things people do that reveal who they are rather than the really big things.
This is what kept me up late: thinking about the little things Seb did last night that gave me a better picture of who he could be, if he keeps trying.
He doesn’t know anything about kids, but neither did I before Charly was born. I haven’t really thought about how I’ve changed since I became a mom until Evie told me the other day at lunch I was amazing. Her words have been on replay in my mind since then.
My ability to stay calm with Charly, to be aware of any potential threats, and to anticipate her needs isn’t because I just knew how to do those things. Experience and practice has taught me.
Seb was totally overwhelmed last night. I saw it on his face and in his trembling hands. I know exactly how he felt because I’ve felt the same way.
But I also saw the way he held Charly’s hand, tried to talk to her with a less serious tone, and asked me questions about her. He’s learning, but more importantly, he’s doing it because hewantsto, not because he has to.
At least he did want to.
I’m not sure about that anymore. He didn’t say he was giving up, but he didn’t say he wasn’t either.
I pull up to Gia’s preschool hoping Seb’s truck will be there, even though it hasn’t been there any other mornings. There’s no reason for him to be there, and this morning is no different.
When I take Charly inside, I linger in the classroom, hoping Gia will say something that Seb might have told her about last night. But she’s too busy with all the children to do more than smile, but with a question in her eyes, that tells me I’m overstaying my welcome.
So, I head to the office, taking the long way so I can pass Seb’s shop. His truck is parked out front. Of course, he’s there. His work ethic is admirable, but he’s really chill about it. He acts like it’s no big deal that he knows how to work with electricity without hurting himself or anyone else. I mean, it’selectricity.
It hits me then what a contrast there is between how confident he is about his work, which involves real danger, compared to how scared he is about getting something wrong with Charly.
