Page 14 of My Secret Valentine

She nods, reaching for her tablet propped against the fruit bowl. “Jenny showed me at school yesterday. Her mom took them.” She pulls up the digital version of the gazette, and there we are. It’s the same photos I saw in Margaret's envelope, but now with headlines like “Local Widower's Secret Romance” and “Nanny or Something More?” The articles are worse than the headlines, full of speculation and thinly veiled judgment.

“Maddie,” Steve says carefully, setting down another plate of pancakes and pulling up a stool to join us. “How do you feel about those pictures? Really feel, not what Jenny or anyone else says you should feel.”

She studies them thoughtfully, chocolate smeared on her chin. The morning sun catches her profile, and for a moment she looks so much like the photos of Claire in the hallway that mybreath catches. “I like the one from the storm night. We looked happy.” She swipes to another. “And this one from the park is when Lainey was teaching me about cloud shapes. You said that one looked like a dragon.”

“But what else?” Steve prompts. His hand finds mine under the counter, and I grip it like a lifeline.

“But Jenny says Lainey's going to leave like Mom did.” The words hit like a physical blow. “She says that's what always happens. That's why her mom took the pictures, to prove it.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” I reach for her with my free hand, not caring about the sticky syrup.

“Your mom didn't leave by choice,” Steve says, his voice rough with emotion. “She loved you more than anything in the world, and if she could be here, she would be. What happened to her isn’t the same thing as leaving us.”

“I know.” Maddie squeezes my hand. “And Lainey loves us too. Right? Not like Mom did, because that's different, but in her own way?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy with hope and fear and possibility. I look at Steve, finding my own uncertainty mirrored in his eyes. But there's something else there too. Strength, support, a promise.

“Yes,” I whisper, then stronger: “Yes, I do. So much it scares me sometimes.”

“Then why are you thinking about leaving?”

Steve drops his spatula with a clatter. “What?”

Maddie picks up my phone from where it sits on the counter. “Your friend Emma keeps texting about a job. I saw when you were helping me with homework yesterday. And then you got all quiet and sad, like when we read Bridge to Terabithia.”

“Maddie,” Steve says sharply. “We don't read other people's messages.”

“I know, but I didn’t mean to see it. Then I had to read the rest of them.” Her lower lip trembles. “I don't want Lainey to go. We're just starting to feel like a real family again. I like it.”

The kitchen falls silent except for the soft sizzle of pancake batter on the griddle and the distant call of morning birds outside. I look at these two people who have become my world. This brilliant, perceptive child and her father who makes pancakes when he's worried and cuts them into triangles because that's how her mother did it are so very special to me. The thought of leaving them feels like trying to leave a piece of myself behind.

“I got a job offer,” I say finally, the words feeling hollow compared to the fullness in my heart. “In Seattle. The kind of job I went to school for. The kind everyone always expected me to take.”

“But you already have a job,” Maddie protests, syrup forgotten. “Here. With us. And you're good at it because you make everything better. You make Daddy smile again. You know how to fix my hair like Mom used to. You even got Mrs. Peterson to stop giving me those sad looks at school.”

“It's complicated, sweetheart.” Steve turns off the griddle, coming around the counter to join us properly. “Sometimes grown-ups have to make hard choices.”

“No, they don't.” Maddie's voice rises with the certainty of childhood. “Not if they love each other. You love Lainey. I heard you tell Grandma on the phone last night. You said you couldn't imagine the house without her anymore.”

Steve's eyes meet mine over Maddie's head, and something electric passes between us. “You heard that, huh?”

She nods vigorously. “And Lainey loves you too. I can tell by how she looks at you when you're not watching. Like in those pictures.”

“Those pictures,” I say slowly, “are causing a lot of trouble in town. People are saying mean things, making assumptions.”

“Because you're trying to hide.” Maddie says it like it's the simplest thing in the world, reaching for more syrup. “Mom always said hiding things just makes them bigger. Like when I tried to hide that I broke her favorite teacup, and it just made her sadder when she found out.”

Steve makes a choked sound that might be a laugh or a sob. “When did you get so smart?”

“I've always been smart. Lainey says so.” She looks at me for confirmation. “Remember? When I figured out fractions all by myself?”

“She's right.” I take a deep breath, my decision crystallizing in the warm morning light of this kitchen that's become home. “Which is why I should tell you both something. I already emailed Emma this morning. I turned down the job.”

“You did?” Steve's voice is thick with emotion.

“I did. Because Maddie's right. I do love you. Both of you. And no dream job is worth leaving my family.” I squeeze Maddie's stickyhand. “Sometimes the dreams we have when we're young aren't the ones we're meant to follow. Sometimes we find better ones.”

The word 'family' hangs there, shimmering with possibility. Steve reaches across Maddie to take my free hand, and this time we don't pull away. His palm is warm against mine, familiar now in a way that makes my heart sing.

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