TYLER

“What?” I grumble into the phone. “What happened this time?”

I listen as the principal explains there’s been an issue with Jess’s behavior. When I press him for more information, he asks me to stop by the school as soon as possible.

I continue to mumble, pulling myself from bed. I flopped down on the mattress after my meeting with Fletcher, feeling drained. I figured I had an hour or two of peace and quiet before he landed in New York and resumed pummeling me with questions.

I pull on a pair of dark jeans and a red sweatshirt. Though I told myself I have nobody to impress around here, I can’t resist stopping by the mirror to glance at my hair. It’s a mess. A mop of dark hair curling in every direction, and the best I can do is run my fingers through it a few times.

I race to school, keeping my eyes peeled for Margaret. I didn’t see her when I returned to the inn this morning, and Emily hadn’t offered me any clue as to her whereabouts. I grudgingly admire her loyalty.

By the time I reach the principal’s office, I can’t tell if my mood has worsened or become better. I’m a bit jittery, which is unlike me. I haven’t felt truly nervous in years—especially not while sitting in a principal’s office.

It could have something to do with the fact that I’m the first, and only, person to arrive in the office. I stare at the door wondering who’ll walk through it.

“You look like Medusa’s going to come through that doorway and take you down,” Shonda says, raising her eyebrows. “Is everything okay, Mr. Daniels?”

“Fine,” I say gruffly. “Just thinking about work.”

“I feel your pain.”

At that very moment, the pair of legs I’d been hoping—no, praying—would walk through that door, make their entrance. Except instead of their usual yoga pants, these legs are bare, stretching up from a pair of simple black heels to the hem of a dress that’s the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen.

My jaw must have dropped open because the secretary stands, raises her eyebrows at the two of us, and grasps her purse. “Yeah, I’m not doing this again,” she says to us. “If Principal McNeal asks where I am, tell him I needed a Coke.”

With that, we’re alone. Margaret Marshall and me, back in the principal’s office. Last time we were here, she didn’t look like this. If she’d looked like this...

“What’re you staring at, Tyler?” she snaps, and there’s a frostiness to her voice that I hadn’t expected. “I’m wearing a dress—it’s allowed.”

“Mmm.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m a species on the Discovery Channel.” She shifts, somewhat uncomfortably, and tugs her dress lower on her thighs. “Stop that.”

I can’t stop; it’s like every beat of my heart is coming more alive—faster and faster as my eyes drink her in, and if I look away, I might die. And here I thought Jess was the Drama Queen of the family.

“You look...” my voice comes out scratchy. “Incredible.”

“It’s nothing,” she says, dismissive. “I just had a breakfast—er, meeting...this morning.”

I don’t like the way she hedges around the words breakfast meeting, as if she had to spin that lie at the last moment. My eyes lock on hers. “You’re lying.”

“No.”

“Did you have a date?” I stand, uncomfortable with how angry the thought of Margaret Marshall out on a date with another man makes me. I’m reacting on a basic, instinctual level, and all signs of my logical brain have disintegrated. “Is that why you’re dressed all sexy?”

“This isn’t sexy!” She gestures to her dress, which is a mid-thigh black thing that’s nearly painted onto her body. “I got it on sale for thirteen dollars at Target.”

“I don’t care where the fuck you got it, you look sexy as hell.” I’m moving across the room before I can stop myself. “Did you have a date this morning?”

“What’s it to you?” she whispers. I’m close enough to practically taste the mint on her breath. “We’re not together.”

“The hell we’re not,” I tell her, though I know I’m being irrational. “You haven’t dated since Mila was born—yes, I know that—and now you choose to meet people? What about us? What about this? If you’re going to give someone a chance, why don’t you make it me?”

“I had breakfast with my mother,” she says, an odd smile twisting onto her face. “How about that, tough guy?”

My heart stops then and there. All of my bravado...for a breakfast with her mother. The look in Maggie’s eyes tell me she’s not lying; in fact, she’s quite amused.

“But, I’m glad to know how you feel,” she says, brushing past me. “I’ll have to put on a dress more often. Just not at school,” she says, her eyes flicking toward the door. “You can’t seem to control your language, and we’re in the principal’s office.”

Almost as if he’d been called, Principal McNeal opens his door, sighs when he sees the two of us waiting on opposite ends of the room, and waves for us to come inside.

“You’re back,” he says, announcing the obvious. “Because Jessica and Mila had a little run in today during math.”

“A little run in,” I say, sounding almost gleeful. “Guess that means we’ll need some more bonding time together.”

Maggie shoots me a deathly glare.

“I’m thinking a canoe trip,” I announce to the group. “The four of us, all alone on the river, no place to escape. We’ll have to talk about things and work together. It might really help to clear the air.”

Principal McNeal sputters a bit. “Don’t you, er, want to hear what they did wrong?”

Maggie rolls her eyes at me, stepping forward to stand behind her daughter. “Yes, Principal McNeal, please.”

“The girls wouldn’t stop talking during their exam. They received three warnings, which means they both got their tests taken away before completing them.”

At this, Jessica bursts into tears. I’m forced to hide the brief glimpse of happiness I’d felt upon realizing that this little incident might make for an excellent excuse to spend more time with Margaret. Maybe she’d even wear that little dress again if I switched out canoeing for a picnic.

Yes, I feel like a horrible father to be thinking this at the moment, but I can’t help it. I know Jessica is a good girl. Whatever’s causing these tiffs between her and Mila will get worked out, and I can’t bring myself to feel upset with her.

Moving is hard; I know that. Punishing my daughter won’t do any good when she’s already giving herself a harder time than I ever could.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, finally freeing myself of thoughts of Margaret as Jess’s little arms snake around my neck. “It’s okay, honey. I’m not upset with you.”

“I got in trouble,” she says. “My teacher never gets mad at me.”

Over Jess’s shoulder, I see Maggie watching her own daughter with curiosity. Mila’s kicking the floor, eyes downcast, giving no sign she’s truly bothered by the reprimands.

“It’s okay, honey. Do you want to come home with me today?” I ask her. “We can take some time off for the afternoon, and maybe we can talk to your teacher about re-doing some of the test.”

“No,” she shrieks, nearly hysterical. “I can’t.”

Her sobs come quicker now, her tears wet against my shoulder. Mila continues to drill her hole into the ground as if she’s attempting to tunnel her way out of here with laser beams.

Alarmed, I hold my daughter closer. “Jess, breathe. It’s okay. One bad grade isn’t going to ruin your life.”

“In fact,” the principal says, unhelpfully. “Jess is doing excellent. Mila, however, could use a little help focusing during class.”

Maggie’s lips tighten. “Of course. I’ll set up a meeting with her teacher.”

“I think that’d be a good idea,” Principal McNeal says. “In the meantime, it’s probably best if we get the girls back to their teacher. I think keeping them in from recess today to catch up would be a sufficient consequence for disrupting class.”

“Jess, are you sure you don’t want to take the day off?” I run a hand over her smooth hair, holding her against me. For some reason, I don’t want to let her go. I want to kidnap her back to the inn and cuddle up under a blanket watching silly movies and playing catch with popcorn. “I’ll give you a note if you want to come home. I’m sure the principal will understand.”

When I use the word home, both Jess and Maggie stiffen. Maggie watches with interest as I struggle to keep my attention focused on Jess.

“No,” she hiccups. “I want to go back to class with Mila.”

Maggie, myself, and our daughters excuse ourselves from the principal’s office and make our way to their classroom. When I lean down to kiss Jess goodbye, she’s already distracted pulling her spelling list out of her backpack, and Mila is groaning at the thought of missing recess.

“What’s happening here?” Maggie asks, mystified, as they walk side by side into class. “Are they friends?”

“I don’t know,” I say, equally unsure. I turn to face her, and change the subject back to us. “What are we, Margaret? Friends? More? I acted like a fool in there before, and I’m sorry. Just the thought of you spending time with someone else—another man...”

“I don’t know, Tyler. What am I to you?” she asks. “Jealousy doesn’t mean you’re all in. It only means you don’t want someone else to have me. Am I an old friend? A distraction while you’re in town? More?”

“I’m not going to leave things like I did last time.”

“You’ve said that before,” she murmurs. Then she turns, stepping away with a light click-click of her heels. “Once you know what you want, we’ll talk.”