Dallas

“Do you remember the doll I want, Daddy?” Maven asks for the umpteenth time.

I tap my finger on the side of my head. “Sure do.” I have it written in my phone notes. I pulled up the doll website last night, and there’s a shit-ton of options. I pause and cock my head to the side. “And you don’t even know if you’re getting a doll.”

Yes, she does.

She bounces from foot to foot. “I really, really, really hope so.” She skips up the steps to my parents’ porch to meet my mom standing outside. “Grammy, don’t I need an American Girl doll?”

My mom draws her into her side. “Of course you do, sweetie.”

Maven wags her finger my way with a smile on her lips. “You have to listen to your parents, just like you tell me.”

“Oh, honey, your daddy was not a good listener when he was your age,” my mom replies with a laugh. She squeezes Maven’s shoulders. “Now, go wash up for lunch, and we’ll go to the bake sale and then shopping for your party decorations.”

“Yay! Princess Jasmine all the way!” she shrieks. She pulls the door open and disappears into the house.

“Thank you for watching her, Ma,” I say.

She nods. “Anytime. You going to the city to get the doll?”

I scrape my boot against the steps. “It’s what she wants.”

She can’t contain her loving smile “And her daddy always gets her what she wants.”

“It’s the least I can do. She lost her mother. She deserves the world.”

Her smile drops. “You’re getting her a doll in the hopes that she won’t be sad every day?”

I grew up with parents who refused to sweep shit under the rug. If there was a problem, we talked about it. If they wanted to know something, they asked and expected honest answers. I grew up, facing my challenges, but this isn’t a problem easily fixed. No amount of parenting or life lessons could’ve prepped me for losing Lucy.

“That’s not the ultimate reason, but it has something to do with it,” I answer. “I want her to heal and enjoy her childhood. If that means spoiling her right now, then that’s what I’ll do. Whatever my daughter needs to put a smile on her face, I’m willing to do it.”

A tear slips down her cheek. I hate seeing my mother upset. I take the few steps up to wrap her in my arms. She sniffles for a second before she continues her impending lecture.

“It’d help her much more if her father started working on the healing process as well,” she says when she slips out of my arms.

I clear my throat to bring out my kindest warning voice. “Ma …”

She wipes her eyes and then places her hand on my shoulder. “Dallas, honey, I loved Lucy. We all did. We all miss her, but she’s gone.”

“She was my wife.” I’m using all my power not to get pissed with her. “You’d be lost without Dad.”

“I would. The difference between you and me is, I’m in my sixties. I have thirty years on you, son. A whole life is waiting for you. Happiness is out there, but you’re never going to find it if you’re blocking it out. Find someone for Maven. Find someone for you.”

My mother is the best person I know. She’s beautiful. Selfless. Caring. There will never be another woman with a heart as kind and nurturing as hers. She raised us to be strong, fearless, and independent.

Her age doesn’t show, and Lauren is the spitting image of her. They’re both short and have long brown hair. Lauren keeps hers down most of the time while my mom’s stays in a bun. They also have a personality with enough spark to light up a city. Mom doesn’t make it easy to get upset with her.

“Can we talk about this another time?” I ask.

“Of course.” A smile plays on her lips. “Are you going shopping by yourself?”

I shake my head. “Willow is coming with me.”

“Stella’s assistant?”

I nod, and her lips form a sly smile.

“Word on the street is, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time together. Beautiful girl, I must say. The few times I met her, she was such a sweetheart.”

“I see the Blue Beech gossip is still alive and kicking,” I mutter.

“You go have fun, honey. If it gets too late, stay there, and have a nice dinner. I’ve already told Maven she could spend the night, so we have plans.”

“You spoil her too much.”

“That makes two of us.” She pulls me in for another hug. “Now, I’m ready for some more grandchildren. I don’t know why my children are taking so long to give them to me.”

Oh, shit.

She’s about to be surprised.

* * *

The American Girl store is packed with moms and daughters, and I have no idea where to make my first move.

Willow cracks up before grabbing my hand. “Come on. I’ll try to lead the way the best I can. It’s been about two decades since I had one of these dolls, but surely, not that much has changed.”

We don’t lose our connection and dodge people while migrating through the loud crowd.

“We’re looking for one that resembles her!” I yell over the noise, as if it were normal to be hunting for the incarnation of your child.

I scan the aisles and stop her each time I think I’ve found it, but Willow shakes her head and continues her search.

Good thing she came with me, or I would’ve grabbed the first doll I saw and bolted out of here. Lauren most likely wouldn’t have had the patience to deal with this crowd either. She didn’t play well with dolls. She drove my mom crazy because she popped all the heads off them, so she could play outside with Hudson and me.

Unlike us, Willow is thorough. She’ll assess every doll until she finds the perfect fit.

We’ve been in the store for thirty minutes when she spots the one and clutches the doll to her chest for me to see. “What do you think?”

It eerily resembles Maven. The dark brown hair, a bow clipped to the side of it, bright purple sunglasses, and a checkered dress.

I tilt my head toward the doll. “Sold.”

“Now, we need to find clothes for her.”

I point to the doll. “She has clothes.”

“She needs more than one outfit. Geesh.” She pulls on my shirt. “Do you live with only one outfit?”

“No, but unlike this doll, I’m a living, breathing human.”

“She needs outfits.” She pivots around, and I follow her into another section.

Willow picks out three outfits for the doll, and a sense of happiness jerks through me when she demands to pay for the clothes. I’ve been terrified of letting someone else around my daughter. I didn’t want her to feel neglected or jealous. I didn’t think another woman could make Maven feel as loved as Lucy did. But Willow thinks of my daughter, smiles with my daughter, enjoys her company. And my daughter enjoys hers.

“One more stop, and then we’ll head home.” I snag her hand after paying for the doll and hope I’m taking her in the right direction. I haven’t been here since Lucy was pregnant.

“I’m in no rush.” She’s more at ease in this crowd than she’s ever been in Blue Beech.

She stills when we reach our destination, and I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing. It’s a baby store, the largest one in the state, and it has everything you need from clothes to furniture to supplies.

“I thought we could look around. See if there’s anything we like,” I tell her. She nods in hesitation, and I throw my arm out. “After you.”

“Are you sure we’re ready for this?”

“One hundred percent.”

* * *

“Is it bad that I have no idea what some of this stuff is?” Willow asks. “I’ve read every baby book I could get my hands on. Researched for hours and made lists of every necessity needed, but this all seems too overwhelming.”

I still have Maven’s nursery furniture in the attic. We kept it in hopes of having another baby and saw it as a good-luck token. As much as I want to pull it out, along with the memories, it wouldn’t be right for me to do that to Willow.

“It is at first. I Googled everything of Maven’s to figure out how to use it.” I point to the cribs on the other side of the store. “One thing we know our little tykes will need for sure is somewhere to sleep. Let’s start there, and we’ll work our way through the store.”

She grins. “Sounds good.”