Page 68 of Letting Go at 40

Sweet child, I want to say to her. I see you.

“Come in,” I say, remaining before her, eager to welcome them into my home.

Mason gently nudges Lynlee forward and I move to give them space to enter. “What are you doing around here?”

“We came to look at a house.” The statement is tossed over Mason’s shoulders as if it’s the most casual thing to say to me. As if the thought doesn’t make my heart flutter with possibilities.

“Are you moving to Lakeside?”

Mason glances down at Lynlee as they enter the kitchen and I follow. “Working on it.”

I clasp a hand over my chest as if to contain the escalating patter inside. “That sounds . . . wonderful.”

Mason meets my eyes, his brow arching. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I offer him a soft smile. That hole in my heart, opened by him, wants to close.

“We stopped to see if we could have lunch with you.” Mason glances down at Lynlee before looking up at me, hesitating. “But maybe I should have called first?”

“I’d love lunch,” I admit, my voice rising a little too eagerly. I ask Lynlee, “What should we have?”

She gazes up at her father again, seeking something from Mason. Anxiety and confusion rests in her eyes.

“We could go out?” Mason looks at me, hopeful, but I’m already shaking my head. I want precious time with both of them.

“Tell me your favorite,” I address Lynlee. I’ll make it happen. If I have to run to a store and back, I’ll make whatever she orders just to take the sadness out of this child’s eyes for a few minutes.

“I like chicken nuggets.” Her voice is quiet, lyrical even, but cautious. As if she’s afraid to tell me what she’d like to eat. Afraid to open up to a stranger.

“I love chicken nuggets.” My voice rises, overly enthusiastic. “What about apples? Do you like those? I have them, too.”

She nods. “I like the yellow ones.”

My stomach somersaults. “Those are my favorite, too.” I clap my hands together, strangely excited to make chicken nuggets and apples for lunch.

Glancing up at Mason, he’s watching me. A smile grows on his lush mouth, slow and a bit wicked even. That damn dimple of his makes an appearance. He’s blindingly good looking.

But it’s the words he mouths that stop my breath.

Thank you.

“Anything you need,” I whisper back to him.

I once denied I’d need him, but now I want him to need me.

The next hour is spent in chatter—that is, my attempts to engage Lynlee in conversation while desperate to understand how things are progressing between Mason and Samantha. Does he have full custody? When is he moving? How does this effect Samantha?

“Let’s take a walk,” Mason eventually says once lunch is done.

The afternoon sky is a glorious blue. Fall is in the air, but summer is holding strong for one last whisper before giving in to a new season.

Once we hit the sand, Lynlee runs ahead giving Mason and I just enough space to openly talk.

“I have so many questions,” I blurt, the excitement of his presence and meeting Lynlee still filling my heart.

“I don’t have full custody but more visitation rights with overnights. I have to prove I’m present in Traverse City. No nightlife. No dates.” Mason tips his head toward me. “Not that any of that is happening.”

I put a pin in the dating comment. “What about a house here?”