Page 14 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad
"I used to make spaghetti quite a bit, but at the risk of offending your senses, I used sauce from a jar."
I pressed my hand over my chest and feigned a heart attack. "Say it isn't so."
Her lips twitched upward as she picked up her wine. "I was only ten at the time. By the time I was fifteen, I did start adding vegetables, but not zucchini."
Jesus fuck, mother died when she was ten? No wonder she was such a scrapper. She was just a kid having to take on adult duties.
Lindsay hadn't been very old when her mother and I split, but Lindsay never had to take on adult roles in the family. Some would say she was spoiled, and I couldn't dispute that, but she was the center of my world. And so, I tried to be both her mother and her father, particularly when her mother stopped visiting her regularly after I won custody. While both girls were without a mother, I imagined Miranda's situation to be significantly more difficult because her mother was deceased, and she had to take on an adult role in the family.
"I'll give you the recipe if you like."
"I’d be afraid I couldn't do it justice." She took a sip and her brows lifted in surprise. "Is this the same wine from last night?"
I nodded, pleased that she remembered, but that was quickly followed by a worry that she might think it meant something. Like I was hoping to relive last night. And of course, I was, but no way would I act on it. "You noticed."
"It was hard not to." She set the wine on the table, her head tilting down, looking at her plate. "I'm sorry about the things I said earlier. I was just shocked to see you and then shocked to find out... well, you know."
"I apologize as well. I guess we were both a little shocked and took it out on each other."
I found myself wanting to ask her all sorts of questions, like had last night really been a first-time hookup for her? And I really wanted to know the truth about her virginity, hoping that she hadn’t been a virgin because for some reason, taking my daughter's friend’s virginity seemed even worse than what the situation already was.
But I determined it was best to not discuss what happened. "I think that starting now, we should act like who we are. Lindsay's father and her friend. We can leave the rest of it behind us."
She nodded. "We won't be telling Lindsay, right?"
"I hope not."
She seemed relieved as she twirled her fork in her spaghetti again. And her relief made me feel better as well. If I could just continue to see her as Lindsay's friend and not the curvaceous, passionate woman I met last night, everything would be all right.
To keep my mind out of the gutter, I steered the conversation to topics that would be normal for me to ask Lindsay's friends. "Are you finishing college this year like Lindsay is?"
"Yes."
"What are you studying?"
“I majored in history and am working on getting a teaching degree."
I sipped my wine, studying her over the rim of my glass. I hadn't pegged her as a history teacher, but my history teacher was a cranky old man.
"I'm trying to decide whether I’ll go to graduate school first and get a master’s degree. Maybe even a PhD."
"You want to teach at the college level?"
She shrugged. "That would be my preference, but graduate studies are expensive, and I might just get my bachelor’s and get a job in a high school. I could pursue a graduate degree on the side."
I shook my head with a small laugh. "I wish Lindsay had your drive. It's bad enough she's getting a degree in art, which I'm having a hard time determining how it will translate into a job, but her grades leave something to be desired."
Miranda gave a little shrug. "Lindsay likes to live in the moment."
I laughed as I jammed my fork into my spaghetti. "I wish that moment was in her schoolbooks a little bit more." I didn’t want to deny Lindsay the full college experience, which included activities outside the classroom, but I didn’t want to waste my money on a useless degree and poor grades, either.
"It's a testament to the security that you give her that she can live life the way she does."
I looked up at Miranda, wondering what she meant by that. "A testament?"
"She knows that you will be there for her emotionally and financially. She has no worries hanging down on her. It gives her the luxury to embrace life."
My brow furrowed, intrigued by the way Miranda was explaining Lindsay's attitude toward life. "Is that a polite way of saying I spoiled her?"
