MAGGIE

Saturday morning dawns bright and sunny, a perfect, crisp fall day that compliments my stormy mood. I’ve been plagued by doubt the entire week, having mostly avoided Tyler Daniels except in passing.

It seems that we’ve come to some sort of a truce, yet some sort of a standoff. We greet each other in the morning, and we smile politely. And that’s about as far as we get. There never seems to be a great time to resume the conversation we ended at the laundromat, and the bravery I’d scrounged up the other night while standing outside of his door has disintegrated to dust.

During one of our brief exchanges, however, Tyler had reminded me of his offer to drive everyone on our outing this weekend. Now this weekend is here, and I’m standing in front of my mirror wondering what I should wear.

“Isn’t today about me and Jessica?” Mila sits on the bed, kicking her feet while I hold two different pairs of earrings. “I like the hoops.”

“Me too,” I say, even though hoops aren’t my normal style. Hoops are a bit flashier, a bit bigger, a bit louder than I normally go with my jewelry.

“Who do you want to notice you, anyway?”

“What are you talking about?” I twirl to face my six, going on sixteen-year-old, daughter. “Can’t I look nice for a change?”

“You always look fine,” she hedges. “But you never spend so much time picking out your outfit.”

“Maybe I’m trying to impress myself.”

“Emily says people only dress up when they want attention.”

“Well, maybe you need to not listen so carefully when Emily and I are having adult conversations.”

Mila throws herself back on the bed, outfitted in cute little jeans and a bright pink sweatshirt with the name of her rec volleyball team on it. “Let’s go, already. I want an apple.”

“It’s not just about the apples.” I fasten the second hoop and wade over to the bed, easing onto it beside my daughter. “This is about you and Jess spending some time together.”

“Her name is Jessica,” Mila spits out. “And I don’t want to spend time with her.”

“She’s a nice girl, honey. Just give her a chance.”

Mila turns her sweet face toward mine. When she speaks, the sweetness turns to a cruel sense of mischief that makes me wonder what’s happened to my naive little girl. “Do you like Tyler?”

“What? No. Of course not. Who said anything about that?”

“Jessica.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you guys want to date.” Mila reaches for me and plays with a stray curl that’s wiggled from my ponytail to dust the side of my face. “I don’t want you to date Tyler. That would mean I see Jessica all the time.”

“Don’t worry,” I murmur, then pull myself away from her. “That’s not in the cards.”

Despite the fragile nature of our politeness, Tyler had all the opportunities in the world to set the record straight. We’re living under the same roof. We take the same route to school. When he wants to find me, he does. Exhibit A: the laundromat.

I can only assume that his standoffish attitude is due to the fact he doesn’t have an interest in pursuing any sort of relationship—particularly a romantic one. Too messy, too permanent. Tyler Daniels runs the other way when the C word—commitment—is broached.

I fasten a necklace at the nape of my neck, another item I’d normally leave behind, and add a swipe of lipstick that’s slightly more red than my normal shade. Then I spritz my fancy perfume on, the one I reserve for special occasions, and take a deep breath.

Despite all logic, I can’t help myself.

There’s something about Tyler Daniels that drives me crazy—for better or for worse.

“Come on, mom,” Mila yells from the front door. “You promised me an apple cider and pie.”

“I can’t believe I had to bribe my own daughter to spend the day with me,” I say, giving myself a once over in the mirror before sliding into a pair of boots thoroughly unreasonable for apple picking. I’m wearing my skinny jeans and the softest fall sweater I own, and the boots go up to my knees with a slight heel. Ridiculous.

“You’re bribing me to hang out with Jessica,” Mila reminds me. “I’d go with you anytime.”

I ruffle her hair. She scowls and surveys me with a look of skepticism.

“You smell different,” she announces. “And you can’t walk in those shoes.”

“I walk just fine,” I say, wondering since when I’ve felt the need to justify my fashion choices to a six-year-old. “And this is the smell of perfume.”

“I don’t like it...” Mila warns, unsure. “Don’t get weird, mom.”

I brush past her, locking the door and leading the way to the lobby. When we reach it, both Emily and Luca’s heads bounce up from behind the desk. Apparently, they’re getting along today.

“Babe.” Emily lets out a low whistle. “You’re one hot mama.”

“Babe,” Mila repeats with a giggle.

I raise my eyebrows at the two of them. “It’s nothing! You’re just surprised I’m not wearing yoga pants.”

“I happen to think you look great in yoga pants.” The low, throaty tone comes from mere steps away. “Are you ladies ready? Jessica’s out front waiting.”

I spin around, any normal response swallowed by my surprise at Tyler’s appearance. While I might’ve secretly dressed up for the event, Tyler has dressed down—and it’s everything I never knew I needed on a man.

Worn jeans line muscular legs and ride low on a trim waist. His torso is outfitted with a luxurious-looking soft gray sweater. It’s long sleeved with buttons at the top, a slight hint of chest hair curling from underneath. He looks entirely edible.

“Mom,” Mila says. “Say something.”

“Er, yeah, we’re ready,” I mumble. “Are you sure you want to drive?”

“No offense,” he says, leaning closer, “but I don’t think your car can make it to the orchard.”

I manage a nod, still struck off balance by this entirely opposite side to Tyler Daniels. The past week he’s been so sharp, so professional. This bright smile and crinkled blue eyes remind me of the sunny days we had many years ago.

His rumpled hair looks as if he’s just rolled out of bed, and it’s blissfully different than the carefully groomed style he wears during the week. And that damn sweater—I thought my shirt was soft, but his looks like a cloud.

Before I know it, I’m leaning forward to examine it, not aware that my thumb and forefinger have grasped his sleeve and rubbed back and forth, feeling the material, until it’s too late.

Mila reaches up and yanks my arm away. “Mom,” she says, one eye on me, the other on Jessica as the latter appears in the doorway. “You’re embarrassing me. Don’t touch people.”

I look up, flushed, and retract my hand. “Sorry. Um, I guess we should head out?”

Jessica wanders inside, watching us with curiosity. It’s all I can do to keep my face a blank slate. Underneath, however, I feel electrocuted, as if the short brush of my skin against Tyler’s sent a jolt straight through me. It’s a sizzle that stings long after the shock.

Tyler doesn’t seem to have noticed. His face is mildly amused, but he shrugs and raises his eyebrows. “Let’s go.”

Mila looks to Jessica. “Is your dad embarrassing, too?”

Jessica bites her lip and looks up at Tyler. “Sometimes.”

Tyler’s eyes flash to mine, a look of cunning hope there, and I have to catch my breath. This is the first sign of a budding friendship that I’ve yet to see from the girls. I’m hesitant to rock the boat, and apparently, so is Tyler.

“Come on,” Jessica instructs. “I get the front seat. We’re taking our car because it’s nicer. My dad says yours is a death trap.”

I’m about to ask if Jessica is old enough to sit in the front seat, but before I can say a thing, Mila snaps back.

“That’s not true,” Mila says. “And anyway, spending money on cars is dumb.”

“You need cars,” Jessica says. “How else are you supposed to get around?”

“They’re not a good investment.” Mila parrots all the logic I’ve used to explain why we can’t get a newer, nicer vehicle. “They cost too much money.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tyler says. “Adults ride in the front. And Jessica, you’re not old enough to sit up there anyway.”

The debate is settled, and the next thing I know, we’re piled into Tyler’s shiny black Audi and headed for the orchard. During the drive, I’m all too aware of the close proximity between Tyler and myself. All I’d have to do is lean over, rest my arm against the middle console, and we’d make contact.

The idea of brushing against Tyler sends swirls of heat all through me, my thoughts spiraling back toward the laundromat. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of his fingers digging into my hips, of my back pressed against the rough machine. The warmth, the vibrations, the...

“We’re here,” Tyler announces, glancing over at me with a cheeky little smile. “Nice nap, sleeping beauty?”

Apparently, I’d dozed off, lost in a world that will never—should never—happen. I quickly glance in the mirror, looking to Mila for signs that I’d murmured something embarrassing in my sleep.

“Don’t worry,” Mila chirps, reading my gaze. “You didn’t drool this time, and you only had one snore.”

“Sorry I dozed off.” I yawn. “I didn’t realize I was so tired.”

“Girls,” Tyler says, turning to look at the backseat. “Do me a favor, will you? We need four bags for the apples. Ten dollars a bag. How much money do you need?”

“Forty,” Jessica says promptly, while Mila is still digesting the question.

“Very good,” Tyler says, opening his wallet. “Do you think you can buy us four bags? I’m going to talk to Margaret for a moment.”

“Yes,” Mila chirps. “My mom has let me buy things before.”

“Excellent,” Tyler says, handing a twenty to each girl. “Half for you, and half for you.”

“Tyler, I can pay—”

“Go on,” Tyler instructs. “We’ll catch up with you in a second. Stay where we can see you.”

The girls scurry to get out, flinging their car doors open and slamming them shut again, my arguments falling on tailwinds. I watch as both girls clutch twenty dollars to their chests like it’s their entire life savings.

“I would’ve paid,” I tell Tyler, suddenly feeling too warm in the closed car. “You drove, you bought the apples—shopping is on me.”

“Fine,” he says.

I find no argument on his lips, but what I do find is a deep, bubbling question in his eyes. “Great.”

“Tell me what you were worried about,” he says, nodding toward the backseat.

“What are you talking about?”

“You looked back at Mila as if you’d expected her to bust you for talking in your sleep or something.”

“Tyler—”

“You were thinking about me before you fell asleep.”

“Tyler.” My voice is sharper this time. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then you’re telling me the way you moaned as you drifted off...” He leans in, his breath a spicy mix of peppermint and sweet, “had nothing to do with us?”

“My moan?”

“I’ve heard it before,” he says. “It’s the sound you make when I’ve got my hands all over you.”

“What makes you think I dreamt of you?”

“Unless there’s someone else that’s made you feel the way I do...”

“My, you’re cocky,” I tell him, reaching for the car door. “You left eight years ago and expected me to wait around for someone who wasn’t coming back?”

“I’m back now.”

“And is that supposed to change everything?!” My voice is getting a little screechy, and I take a calming breath as I look over to the girls, who appear to be chatting with one another as they inch forward in line. “I’m here only for my daughter. Not for you.”

“Are we going to pretend nothing happened at the laundromat?”

“It was a mistake.”

“Right.” Tyler narrows his eyes at me, surveying my face, reading between the lines. “A mistake.”

I do my best to hold my expression even so he can’t read a thing. “You can’t waltz in and out of my life whenever you feel like it.”

“I know that.”

“Well? Then what are you playing at, Tyler?”

“Tell me the truth.” He’s so close now his lips hover above mine. “Has anyone else made you feel the way I do?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t. It matters more than anything in this world. Answer me.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in you whirling into my life and then tap dancing back out when the spark dies down,” I say, but a hesitation comes through as my voice cracks. “Under different circumstances, maybe. But I’ve already been here with you before, and I know the ending.”

“I’ve no plans to tap dance anywhere. I’m a different man than the boy who fucked things up last time.”

This is the first time Tyler’s come close to admitting fault for what happened before, but it’s still not an apology. I can’t find it in me to let him off the hook this easily—not when he’d destroyed my heart so thoroughly the first time around. If Mila hadn’t come along, a welcome and lovely little baby who’d put me back together, I might still be lost.

“I loved you,” I whisper. Tears prick my eyes. This is not going the way I’d hoped, and I swipe the tears away and focus on the anger. “How dare you bring back those emotions now.”

“If not now, when?”

“Never! Don’t you understand? There is no future for us.”

“I have never felt the things I feel for you with anyone else. It’s never come close,” Tyler says. “I might not have given us the chance we needed, and I’m sorry. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

There’s a sadness as I offer a smile. “Well, I guess we both moved on.”

“That’s the furthest thing from the truth, and we both know it.”

“What about Anastasia? How does she fit into all of this?”

Tyler’s hands fall to his lap, and he grips his knees. “Don’t bring her into this. The only reason she’s any part of my life is because she’s Jessica’s mother. For Jess’s sake, I’m trying to keep the avenue open for a relationship between them. Not that she wants it.”

“She...” I hesitate. “She doesn’t want a relationship with her own daughter?”

Tyler’s eyes flash over to me. “I’m not discussing this now. Not ever.”

“Why?”

“She’s Jessica’s mother. I swore I wouldn’t badmouth her no matter...” Tyler’s fists shake, his entire body trembling. “No matter how much wrong I think she’s done.”

I lose Tyler for a moment to his fury. There’s an emotion in his eyes that I recognize, a similar emotion I’d felt when Mila’s father told me he never wanted to meet his daughter. To see her. To hold her. Instead of anger, however, I’d broken. I’d curled even closer around Mila to ensure she’d never know the truth.

Tyler, it appears, has his own way of protecting Jessica. His instincts are rooted in anger, while mine come from fear.

My gut reacts first, pushing me out onto a limb. I reach for Tyler’s hand and clasp my fingers around it, feeling the warmth of him. “I respect that,” I tell him. “We can change the subject. I won’t bring up her name again.”

“It’s fine,” Tyler says, still visibly struggling to dismiss his anger. “She’s a part of my life, no matter what. Forever.”

“I know what you mean,” I whisper. “Mila’s dad didn’t want to be a part of her life.”

“Where is he?”

“Dead.”

“Are you...” Tyler’s eyes flash with alarm. “I’m so sorry. Are you widowed?”

I shake my head. “Never married. Not even close. I had just thought...assumed, I suppose, that he’d want to be a part of his daughter’s life.”

Tyler gives a wry laugh. “Assumptions are painful.”

“Dangerous,” I agree. “And foolish. I don’t assume anything anymore.”

Tyler looks at me, knowing the conversation has changed from our past to our present. “You assume I’m the same person I was. I’m not, Margaret. I’m different.”

“So am I,” I say, offering a somewhat tender smile. “I’m not so naive this time around, which works out better for both of us.”

Tyler’s jaw works, and he takes the pause to glance over my shoulder at the girls. “They’re fine,” he says. “Almost to the front of the line.”

“We should get going. The apples wait for nobody.”

Tyler’s hand snakes out, grasps my wrist, and holds me in place. “Answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Have you ever...” He pauses to swallow, as if this is the moment of truth. “Have you felt the same way about anyone else that you’ve felt about me?”

I blink. “What does it matter?”

“Was it me you were thinking of when you drifted off to sleep?” He inches closer. “If I’d let you sleep longer, is it my name you would have said?”

“Tyler...” My voice is a breath. There’s not enough air in the car. My heart is thumping, my pulse pounding, my blood on fire. “Please, don’t—”

He takes my face in his hands—his strong, tender hands—and holds me suspended before him. “Answer me.”

“No,” I whisper. “I’ve never...”

“Was it me?”

“Yes,” I say, and it’s practically a whimper. “But it doesn’t mean anything—”

My words are wiped free as his lips meet mine. The most tender, gentle kiss. A touch of two souls, of a long-lost love and a hopeless future. A moment of truth and a moment of sadness as we linger together, my body frozen in place, and my heart unlocks just a bit more.

“Tyler, we—” I pull back, struggling for the willpower to fight this moment, only to have the battle won for me.

“Got the bags!” Two shrill voices screech as they pound against the window of the car. “What are you doing, mom?”

Tyler’s hands drop from my cheeks, their absence felt like a ripped off Band-Aid. Before I know it, Tyler’s outside of the car, shoving his hands into his pockets and explaining that I had an eyelash stuck in my eye.

I barely hear his explanation as I urge my legs to move and force my arms to open the door. Jessica seems to buy the eyelash bit, asking me if I feel all right.

I nod and thank her, but Mila isn’t fooled. She and I hang a step behind as Jess takes her father’s hand and trots on ahead.

“I told you, mom,” Mila accuses, as her feet shuffle noisily on the leaf-strewn ground. “You dressed up for a reason.”

“Mila.”

“Do you like him?” Mila’s eyes crinkle as they meet mine. “You said you wouldn’t lie, mom.”

“I don’t know,” I finally admit. “It’s complicated.”

Her hand ensnares mine tighter. “Jessica told me they were going to move back to the city when her dad’s job here is done.”

I’m surprised by this change of subject, and I let my daughter know.

“Why should I be friends with Jessica,” she asks, “if she’s just going to leave?”

I bite my lip, struggling for a response. I’m spared for the moment when the girls spot a haunted hay ride and beg for tickets. However, as we wander deeper and deeper into the orchard, and the leaves crunch louder and louder beneath my feet, I wonder if Mila’s words don’t mean something for me, too.

Is it worth risking everything for a fleeting moment of happiness? I watch Tyler lift his daughter onto a hay bale and my throat closes up. A week ago, I would have said no.

Now, I’m not so sure.