Page 9 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

“Okay, I’m here,” I say as I lean against the building. “Getting ready for bed?”

Jayce nods as he holds the phone with one hand, but cuddles the blanket that he’s slept with every night since he was born in the other.

“Yeah. Aunt A-Mae just tucked me in.”

He switches over the angle of the call so I can see my younger sister, who he calls A-Mae since her name is Ainsley Mae and that’s what he grew up hearing us call her. He calls my other sister Tella, but that was because he couldn’t say his “s” sounds. “How are you? How bad is the storm?”

“It’s a madhouse,” I say. “Every flight is canceled. I’m supposedly waiting on a room, but it’s so insane I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave it away or never had one to begin with.”

“That stinks,” Ainsley says. “But don’t worry about us. We got pizza for dinner, did bath time, and Jayce even taught me how to play SpaceCraft. I must say, for a first timer, I’m pretty good.”

“She made it through five levels, Mommy! She’s better than you!”

I laugh as I look back into the bar at the inventor of said game. I smile as I watch him casually sit at the bar, phone in hand. I wonder if he’d be impressed with Ainsley’s accomplishment? Or that Jayce is probably his number one fan in the world? And what would Jayce say if I told him who I’m sitting next to? More importantly, what would my sister say if I admitted that I met a man who is tempting enough to make me consider ending my self-imposed dry spell?

“Why are you smiling, Mommy?”

I jump slightly at Jayce’s voice. “I’m just happy you called.”

That was a shitty recovery, and judging by the look from my kid and sister, neither are buying it.

“I call every night you aren’t home,” he says, clearly wondering why he has to explain this to me. “It’s story time.”

“You’re right.” I let out a breath and square my shoulders. “You ready?”

He nods and cuddles himself into bed, Ainsley holding the book that we read together every night.

I’ve read this book to him since he was a baby. I memorized it a long time ago. He probably has, too. Age wise, he should’ve outgrown the book years ago. But it’s our thing, and I’m grateful my baby still wants this time with me. I know one day he won’t, so I’m not going to miss a minute while I still have the chance.

We say goodnight to all the things in the book—the socks, the balloons, and the people. We go on for the six minutes and thirty seconds it takes to read the book. We go back and forth on the parts we perform—my very particular son is insistent I only voice certain pages and he does the others.

Then when we say “the end,” it doesn’t stop there, because Jayce has to say goodnight to everyone in his life that he loves.

“Goodnight Mommy, Goodnight Daddy,” he says. “Goodnight Aunt A-Mae and Tella and Quinn. Goodnight Emmett and Winnie the dog. Goodnight Uncle Simon, AuntCharlie, and baby Lainey. Goodnight Didi and Pappy. And goodnight Rosie.”

I was ready to tell him what I normally do after his goodnights, but his last one throws me for a loop. “Who’s Rosie?”

“My girlfriend,” he says, a big yawn coming from his tiny mouth. “Goodnight, Mommy.”

I stutter a bit, wondering how my son could drop this bomb on me then just go to sleep. “Sweet dreams, buddy.”

Ainsley gives him one more kiss on the cheek and promises to do some recon at drop-off in the morning, so I hang up the phone and I make my way back into the bar.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, standing up and giving me his hand as I climb back onto the bar stool.

I grab my martini and finish it in one go. “I think my son has a girlfriend.”

This makes Logan laugh. “How old is he again?”

“Six,” I say, setting it down and ordering another drink. “I wasn’t ready for this yet.”

“Oh, the days of primary school,” Logan says with a touch of nostalgia in voice.

“Let me guess, you were the cute boy with dozens of girlfriends?”

He lets out a loud, singular, laugh. “You’re hilarious. Quite the contrary. A girl didn’t give me the time of day until Year Twelve, and that’s only because I was doing her homework for her.”

I find that hard to believe. “Really? You weren’t the flirt of the school? The cute boy everyone wanted to take to the dances?”

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