Four days later I met my sisters for Sunday brunch at PARC in Campus Martius downtown.

“Good morning,” I chirped as I slid onto the booth along the wall next to Stella. Across the table, Maren gave me a smile.

“Morning,” she said. “You look nice. Is that a new blouse?”

“Thanks. It is new, actually.” Nate had bought it for me yesterday during our shopping excursion at Partridge Creek. His mother had canceled their planned visit last minute, something about not feeling up to having guests, and even though he’d pretended not to be upset about it, I could tell that he was. I suggested the afternoon shopping trip as a way to get him and Paisley out of the apartment and into the sunshine. It had been a gorgeous couple of days—warm and sunny, temperatures in the mid sixties even though the official start of spring was still a few days away.

“It’s really pretty,” said Stella. “You don’t normally wear a lot of patterns.”

The blouse was floral patterned silk chiffon, a rose print on a sheer white background. Very springy and romantic. I lifted my shoulders. “Guess I’m branching out a little bit. Changing up my style.”

“It’s more than the blouse.” Maren was studying me with a sister’s critical eye. “There’s something different about you. You’re glowing.”

“Am I?” I pretended to study the menu.

Stella leaned around me, trying to get a better look at my face. “Yes. What’s going on with you?”

“Let me get something to drink and I’ll tell you.” I signaled a server and put in an order for a glass of champagne.

“Ooh, that sounds good. I’ll join you,” said Maren.

“Me too,” said Stella.

While we waited for our drinks, I looked at the menu for real. I had never been here before, but everything sounded scrumptious. Or maybe it was just my good mood.

The server returned after a minute with our glasses of bubbly, promising to come back shortly to take our order.

“Okay, spill,” Stella said as soon as we were alone again.

“Yes. Why are you glowing?” Maren asked.

“First, a toast. To spring!” I raised my glass. “A time of rebirth and awakening.”

They exchanged a look as we clinked. “She’s having sex with someone,” said Stella.

“Good sex,” added Maren.

I leaned forward dramatically. “Amazing sex,” I clarified. “Four nights of the most amazing sex you can possibly imagine.”

Maren groaned with envy. “Nate?”

“Yes.” I took a sip of my champagne—it was delicious, possibly the best thing I had ever tasted.

“So tell us what happened,” said Stella, shifting impatiently next to me in the booth. “When we saw you last Sunday, you were all we’re just friends about it.”

I laughed. “Well, that was true, but then I went over there later that night.”

Maren was on the edge of her seat. “And?”

“And things got unexpectedly and very decidedly more than friendly.” I leaned even closer to them and whispered. “I had two.”

“Two?” Stella questioned, like she didn’t quite believe it.

“Two.”

“I’ve heard that’s possible, but no one I know has ever verified it,” Maren said.

I took another sip, delighted with the way the bubbles danced on my tongue. “Consider it verified.”

“How did you even manage it with the baby and all?” Stella wondered.

“We were on the couch that time, and she was sleeping upstairs. I don’t know how we didn’t wake her up, but thankfully we didn’t.”

The server came back over, and we put in our orders—Stella went for shrimp and polenta, Maren ordered the omelette, and I chose the cinnamon roll bread pudding. I didn’t even feel guilty about it. I’d worked out four times this week, and besides, I figured Nate and I were burning at least a couple hundred calories a night.

“Okay, keep going,” Maren prodded.

“Okay, so after that first time, he got a little weird. I mean, not that night—that night he was fine and when I left, everything felt good between us. He basically admitted he felt something for me, but he’s got this thing about needing people. He doesn’t want to need anybody, and he doesn’t want anybody to need him. I babysat for him the following morning, and I could tell something was wrong. He was kind of aloof and indifferent.”

“Did you ask him why?” Stella looked curious.

“No, because I sort of knew why. He was scared.”

“So what did you do?” Maren asked.

“Actually, nothing. I wasn’t happy about it, but I figured there was no point in pursuing him if he wasn’t interested in taking a chance with me, so I let it go. And we went almost three days without even talking or seeing each other.”

“You let it go?” The look on Maren’s face told me how surprised she was, and admittedly, in the past I probably would have gone over there to pick a fight or at least demand to know what I had done wrong.

“I did,” I confirmed with a shrug. “I felt like it was his issue, and he needed to work it out on his own.”

“Wow.” She sat back, her expression thoughtful and a little impressed. “Very Zen of you, Emme. You didn’t even call us to vent about it. The blouse really isn’t the only thing that’s new.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t going to mention that the biggest reason I didn’t call them to vent was because I didn’t want them to say I-told-you-so about Nate just using me as Nanny McFuck across the hall. “I’m really trying to do things differently with Nate. I’ve made so many mistakes in the past by either choosing the wrong guys, or expecting too much too soon, and blaming myself when they let me down. I don’t want to do that this time.”

“That’s great,” said Stella. “You sound very healthy.”

“I feel it. I mean, I didn’t for the few days we weren’t speaking, but he showed up at my door Wednesday night with the baby in a sling on his chest and these plastic containers of mine in his hand, pretending he just wanted to return them.” I laughed, shaking my head. “It was so obvious what he was doing.” I told them about our argument and how I’d stood up for myself. “It was scary, because I knew I risked alienating him completely, but I was looking at him and I could see that he didn’t believe the bullshit he was giving me. He was just scared and too stubborn to admit it.” I shrugged. “So I called him out on it. I figured I had nothing to lose.”

The server appeared with our plates and set them down in front of us. When she was gone, Stella patted my leg beneath the table. “I’m really proud of you. That took guts.” She picked up her knife and fork and began cutting a piece of shrimp. “It’s not easy to change your relationship habits, but I’m so glad to see you realize you deserve more.”

I smiled. “Thanks. I felt proud of myself, too. Although when he turned around and stormed out, I burst into tears. That wasn’t too Zen of me. But it only took him a few minutes to realize his mistake and knock on my door again.” Picking up my spoon, I giggled. “Of course, it helped that he had locked himself out of his apartment.”

Maren laughed. “See? The universe heard you and arranged everything.”

“Or he was so distracted by his conflicting feelings, he simply forgot the key,” said Stella wryly. “He’s only human, after all.”

“Not when it comes to sex,” I said under my breath before digging my spoon into the bread pudding and licking it clean. “I’m convinced he has some kind of superpower when it comes to orgasms.”

Both my sisters sighed loudly. “How are you not waking the baby?” Maren asked.

“Well, we did wake her Thursday night,” I admitted. I had gone over to his apartment after my event at the MGM, even though it had been almost midnight. Not that we wasted any time—we were naked on his living room floor within ten minutes of my arrival, our clothing flung all over the room. When we were done (didn’t take long), Nate had rug burns on his knees, I found my bra hanging off a lamp, and we’d been anything but quiet. It took Nate half an hour to get her back to sleep after that.

Friday night, we’d done it in the kitchen, me still in my work clothes and Nate behind me with his hand clamped over my mouth. I had a bruise on the front of my hip where it kept banging into the edge of the counter, but Nate had been completely unapologetic, claiming it was my fault for coming over in a little black dress and heels without my underwear on. However, when I’d shown him it was still there last night, he’d dropped to his knees and kissed it softly.

“So do you spend the night there?” Stella wondered.

“No,” I said. “He always asks if I want to stay, but the baby sleeps in his room. I feel like three might be a little crowded in there, and I had to get up for work pretty early every day last week. Did I tell you Coco had her baby?”

They wanted to hear all about that, and about how Mia was doing as well.

“She’s doing great,” I said, licking some maple crème anglaise from my finger. “Actually, she offered me a job up there.”

My sister stared at me.

“Really?” Stella said. “At the winery?”

I told them what her offer entailed, and that I was tempted by it but had asked for some time to think it over. “It might be nice for a change, and I do like that area, but…” Swirling the last of my champagne around in the bottom of my glass, I shrugged. “This thing with Nate feels really good. I know it’s only the beginning, and in the past my instincts have not been the greatest, but I’m hopeful. I really think he might be what I’ve been looking for.”

They didn’t say anything right away, which was a little disconcerting. Finally Stella spoke. “That’s great, Emme. As long as you’re being careful and keeping perspective on things, why not take time to think over the offer? I think that’s smart to keep the option open awhile.”

“Me too,” echoed Maren.

“Thanks.” Then I sighed. “The one thing I wish is that we were able to have, like, an actual date. Go out for dinner or something.” I wrinkled my nose, dropping my eyes to the napkin in my lap. “But with the baby, it’s hard. And I don’t want to whine about it. He finally seems like he’s getting used to the idea that he’s a father, and that it’s for life. Like, this is not a temporary thing that’s going to go away once Paisley’s mom decides to show up again.”

“Has she been in touch?” Stella asked.

I shook my head. “Nope. Not since that one phone call.”

“What’s he going to do then?” Maren asked. “Will they share custody?”

“I assume so.” I nodded, picking up my spoon and poking at my meal again, but I didn’t really feel like eating anymore. The truth was, Nate was kind of evasive on the subject of joint custody or a more permanent arrangement for Paisley once the month was up. I’d asked him only yesterday if he was planning to get a bigger apartment or maybe even buy a house with a backyard somewhere, and he’d sort of grunted that he was thinking about it but hadn’t really seemed too willing to discuss it.

I hadn’t pressed the issue—it wasn’t really my business, and I was learning with Nate that it was better to let him decide when it was time to open up about things rather than poking and prodding at him. He didn’t respond well to pressure. But he was working on sharing more about himself with me. Yesterday as we’d walked around Partridge Creek, pushing Paisley in the stroller, he’d talked a little bit about his mom and her anxiety, her bouts of agoraphobia and obsessive-compulsive tendencies. It was the most he’d ever talked to me about such a personal subject, and I’d listened attentively, swallowing all the questions I had. I wanted him to feel like he could talk to me without being judged or analyzed or evaluated for relationship potential. It was not about that. It was about him feeling comfortable enough with himself to show me part of what he normally buried. It was about trust.

“You know, I could watch the baby for you,” Maren offered. “If you’ve got a night off next week and you two want to have dinner, as long as I’m not teaching that night, I’d be happy to do it.”

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Stella said. “If Maren has to teach on your night off, let me know. I’ll do it. I love babies.”

“Really?” Love and gratitude for my sisters flooded through me. “You would do that?”

“Of course,” Maren said, and Stella nodded.

“You guys are the best. Let me check my schedule and get back with you,” I told them excitedly. “And let me make sure it’s okay with Nate, but I’m pretty sure he’ll go for it.”

Later that afternoon, I told him about their offer as we ambled along the Riverwalk with Paisley in the stroller. He stopped in his tracks.

“Are you serious? They really offered to do that?” He looked especially handsome with his hair all windblown and aviator sunglasses on.

“Yes. And they’d be really good with her. Stella was a nanny too, and Maren is basically a Disney princess. In fact, I’ve hired her out to do rich kids’ birthday parties dressed up like Cinderella a bunch of times.” I giggled at the memory. “And she’s always a good sport about it. Although she makes good money every time, at least a few hundred bucks, so that helps.”

Nate shook his head. “I cannot believe people actually pay that kind of money for someone to show up in a costume at a birthday party, especially for a kid.”

“Oh, believe it,” I told him. “I’ve done kids’ parties that cost thousands and thousands of dollars. These people don’t just want someone in a Cinderella getup from Target with an iPod. They want the gown and the castle, the pumpkin carriage, real white horses, elaborate decorations, a DJ with a stereo system, silver tea sets, cakes shaped like a glass slipper, fireworks, bounce houses, piñatas, a dance floor, face painters—”

He groaned. “Stop. Just stop right there. Before Paisley hears you and gets ideas.”

I laughed. “Don’t you want to give your daughter a princess party?”

“No. She can have a regular party with kids from the neighborhood like we did when we were kids, where you play musical chairs and pin the tail on the donkey, and eat a slice of homemade yellow cake with chocolate frosting on paper plates with plastic forks and ice cream melting all around it,” said Nate.

“We?” I asked curiously. “I thought you didn’t have any siblings.”

“I meant you and me,” he said quickly. “Kids from our generation.”

“Ah. Well, I suspect you’re going to want to spoil your daughter a little more than that. I bet she’ll have you wrapped around her little finger, just like my sisters and I were with our dad. He never could say no to us.”

Nate went quiet after that, so quiet that I was concerned I’d said something wrong. Was he thinking about his future with Paisley? Or his past? Was he picturing the suburban neighborhood where he grew up and wondering if he owed his daughter the same kind of upbringing? Downtown loft living was great for single people like us, but if you had kids, you had to think about things like safe outdoor places for them to play, schools, friends nearby. But rather than ask him about his plans again, I changed the subject. “So what do you think about letting my sisters babysit so we could go out one night this week? I looked at my schedule earlier and believe it or not, we don’t have any events scheduled for this weekend.”

“Really? That’s nice.”

I could tell he was still distracted, and tried not to be disappointed at our mismatched levels of excitement. “Well, you let me know.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes, and I looked out over the Detroit River, holding my hair back from blowing in my face and wondering what he was thinking, why he’d suddenly gone mute. When we reached the foot of the Belle Isle bridge, I asked if he wanted to walk across or turn around.

He glanced into the stroller. “Turn around, I guess. She’ll have to eat soon, and it’s easier to feed her at home.”

I nodded, and we started walking back. After another ten minutes went by, I couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” But his expression remained serious, his jaw clenched.

“Because you seem a little upset,” I went on, making an effort to sound friendly and not accusatory. “And I was just wondering if I said something wrong.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh. Okay, good.”

More silence. I was about to lose my mind when he stopped walking. I got about four feet ahead of him and turned around.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. I am upset about something, but it’s nothing you need to worry about.” He pushed the stroller and caught up to me. “And I would like to take you out this weekend. Could you ask your sisters if Friday night would be okay? I still want to try to visit my mom on Saturday.”

“Of course,” I said, relieved it wasn’t me but concerned about whatever it was that was bothering him. “I’ll text them right now.” Pulling my phone from the pocket of my denim jacket, I messaged both sisters at once. Maren got back to me right away and said she’d be happy to do it, and Stella replied a few minutes later that she was supposed to attend a work function with Walter but would rather babysit with Maren, so she was going to try to get out of it.

“We’re all set.” I dropped my phone back into my pocket and grinned at Nate, hoping to cheer him up. “We have not one but two qualified babysitters anxious to give you some relief and us some adult time.”

“Great,” he said, giving me half a smile.

“What should we do?” I faced him and galloped sideways a few steps, thrilled at the prospect of an evening out with him by my side, holding a restaurant door open for me, taking my hand as we walked through a crowded room, sitting across a candlelit table.

“Leave it to me.” He sounded a little better, happier. “I’ll take care of everything. I want to treat you.”

My stomach fluttered. “I can’t wait.”

 

 

Friday night, my sisters knocked on my apartment door around six. I let them in, and they followed me upstairs to my bedroom so I could finish getting ready. Nate had made a reservation for seven o’clock, but he hadn’t told me where. He’d said I could dress up or dress down, whatever I pleased. Since he was the one I wanted to please, I’d chosen a bright red dress that showed off my legs and had a deep V in the front. But other than that, it wasn’t skimpy or provocative—it had long, blousy sleeves that cuffed at the wrist, a little belt around the waist, and a soft, flowing skirt. I’d noticed that Nate was turned on by things that were suggestive without being overly revealing. I liked that about him.

Now, what I wore beneath the dress was another matter entirely—a sexy bra and panties in cherry-colored lace.

“I love your dress,” said Stella, following me up the stairs. “It looks amazing on you.”

“Thanks. You can borrow it any time. It would look great on you too, with your runner’s legs.” I smiled at her over my shoulder.

“Thanks, but I don’t really go anywhere that would require a sexy little red dress,” she said wistfully. “I wish I did.”

“Make Buzz take you out dancing,” said Maren as we reached the top of the stairs. “Go to Cliff Bell’s and do the Charleston. It would be the bee’s knees.”

Stella smacked Maren on the arm as she and I snickered. “You guys should be grateful to Walter for letting me off the hook tonight.”

“We are,” I said, going into my bathroom to take one final look at my reflection. I’d curled my hair and let it swing loose around my shoulders. My makeup I kept minimal, a little blush, some black liquid eyeliner around my eyes, and red lips to match my dress. In my ears I wore tiny diamond earrings, and a cursive E hung from a delicate gold chain around my neck. After giving myself a couple sprays of perfume, I stepped into strappy nude heels and spun around for my sisters, who were sitting on my bed. “Well?”

“Ten.” Maren was confident.

“Eleven,” said Stella. “And I love how the shoes show off your red painted toes, but are your feet going to be cold?”

“Nate does a good job keeping me warm.” I grabbed a small black clutch from my closet and tossed my lipstick in it.

“Things are still going well for you guys?” she asked.

“Totally,” I said. There were times during this week where he’d gone a little silent and moody, but that could easily be blamed on sleep deprivation, the major changes in his life, and concerns about the future. Overall, he was the same Nate I’d always known—sexy, funny, charming, generous—just more human. I couldn’t get enough of him.

“That’s great,” Maren said as they followed me down the stairs. “I’m dying to meet him.”

“He’s excited to meet you, too, and I’m ready, so let’s do it.” I added a few more things—mints, some cash, my keys—before heading across the hall with my sisters, locking my door behind me.

Although I had a key to Nate’s apartment, I always knocked. I didn’t want to make any presumptions where his privacy was concerned, and besides, I always went a little breathless when he opened the door. I like that feeling, the rush of it, like cresting the top of the hill on a rollercoaster. Tonight was no exception.

“Hi,” he said, quickly scanning all three of us but bringing his eyes right back to me. They drank me in from head to toe and back again. “Wow. You look stunning.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome.” He wore a charcoal suit with a white shirt, no tie. His hair was neatly combed, his scruff trimmed, and since I’d insisted on going straight home last night after one (lingering) good night kiss, his eyes were clear and bright after a good night’s sleep. He’d texted this morning that even Paisley had gone six straight hours without waking up.

He kissed my cheek and stepped back, opening the door wide. “Come on in. I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” he said to my sisters, offering his hand. “I’m Nate, and over there in the swing is Paisley.”

Stella and Maren shook his hand and gave him their names with a smile before making a beeline for the baby. Immediately they started cooing over her, remarking on all her dark hair, her big eyes, and the cute little sleeper that I bought for her last Saturday at Partridge Creek. On the chest it said You got this, Dad and was covered with arrows labeled arm, arm, leg, leg, head, and snap here.

“There are instructions for making her bottles on the kitchen counter next to the can of formula. Diapers and wipes and pajamas are over there on the changing table.” Nate gestured left, then right. “Extra pacifiers are upstairs on the nightstand, and I left my cell phone number on the coffee table. Call if you need anything or have any questions.” He actually looked kind of nervous about leaving, which I found adorable.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” said Maren, pulling Paisley out of the swing. “Just go have fun.”

“Thanks.” Nate dropped his keys and his cell phone in his pocket. “She gets pretty fussy around nine or ten, but we shouldn’t be too much later than that.”

“You have no curfew.” Stella gave us a wave. “Enjoy your night out.”

Flashing my sisters a grateful smile, I took Nate’s hand, sensing he needed some reassurance that it was okay to leave her. “Ready?”

Eye contact with me seemed to do the trick. “Definitely.” He held the door open for me, and we walked out into the hall.

We waited silently for the elevator, and when it arrived he guided me into it with one hand on my lower back. It was empty, and as soon as the doors were shut behind us, he spun me to face him and grabbed me tight around the waist with one arm. “You. Are. Gorgeous.”

The elevator began to descend, making me feel weightless. My heart beat faster. “Thank you.”

He buried his face in my neck. Inhaling deeply, he squeezed me tighter. “Thank you. For suggesting this. For arranging it.”

“Of course. You deserve a night out.”

He opened his mouth and kissed his way down the side of my throat, making my arms and legs tingle. “Easy, easy,” I admonished when I felt his hand brushing up my thigh. “We’ve got hours, don’t we?”

“Yes. And I intend to make every second count.” But he released me as the elevator slowed to a stop, and I straightened my dress before the doors opened into the parking garage beneath the building. Nate took my hand as we walked to his car, and opened the passenger door for me. Once I was seated, he closed it and walked around to the driver’s side.

“So where are we going?” I asked as he started the engine. “You’ve kept it a secret all week.”

Nate took my hand and kissed it before exiting the garage, but he said nothing.

I moaned with frustration as we eased into traffic, but secretly I loved that he wanted to surprise me. In a few minutes, we pulled up at the Detroit Foundation Hotel, a beautifully restored brick building that had been the Detroit Fire Department’s headquarters in the 1920s, complete with three huge sets of double doors painted bright red across the front. Immediately, one valet opened my door and offered me a hand as I stepped onto the curb. Nate accepted a slip of paper from a second valet, told him we were hotel guests, then came around and took my arm.

“Hotel guests?” I whispered as we headed for the entrance. “Why did you say that?”

Again, Nate only smiled as he opened the door to the restaurant for me. “So many questions,” he said, taking my arm again as we walked in together. “Don’t you trust me to do this right?”

The hostess greeted Nate by name and told him his table was ready. I saw the way her eyes lingered on his handsome features and broad chest, and felt proud to be the one on his arm. “I trust you,” I said, looking up at him as my pulse skittered out of control. It occurred to me that I couldn’t recall the last time I had trusted any man this way.

Once we’d been left alone, I looked at him across the table and realized that for once in my romantic life, everything was falling into place exactly the way I had imagined it. The crowded room, the arm in mine, the candlelight glowing softly between us. Beyond that, there was the beat of my heart, the look in his eye, the feeling that somehow we were doing this right.

We were finding our way.