Page 105 of In It to Win It

“Oh good. I thought it was pretty. Not as pretty as you.”

She reaches for me to hug me, wetting the shoulder of my shirt with tears. “Thank you. I love it.” She opens the clasp, hands the necklace to me, and gives me her back so I can fasten it around her neck.

“There’s one more gift. We were, uh, kind of on the same wavelength.”

She turns back to me, wiping moisture from her cheeks with her palms. “Oh.”

I hand her another gift, a small flat package, and she pulls the paper from it.

“It’s uh, maybe overkill.” I rub my hands on my jeans.

She smiles. But then she starts crying again when she sees the square piece of dark wood with sunflowers painted on it and the wordsyou are my sunshine.

“Too much?” I ask. Jesus, I didn’t mean to make her cry this much.

“No,” she sobs, setting it carefully on the coffee table. “It’s perfect. And you’re about to get very lucky.”

I catch her as she launches herself at me again and plants a huge kiss on my lips.

I already am lucky.

Later,in her bed, both of us drowsy and sated, Taylor’s cheek on my chest and our legs twined together, she murmurs, “I went to see my mom on Saturday.”

“Ah, shit, I forgot about that. I’m such an asshole. How did it go?”

She smiles. “Good. Shirley wasn’t there, which I was grateful for. Just me and Mom.” Then she sighs. “It’s hard when your parent has a new relationship with someone else.”

“Especially when it happened so fast. If you’d had time to adjust to your parents’ separation and their relationship ending, it probably would have been easier to accept someone else. A woman your father’s dating, or a new partner for your mom.”

“Yes . . . that’s true. Anyway, we talked about a bunch of things. I think I feel . . . better.”

“Good.”

“Thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“I didn’t push you. Just . . . nudged.”

She snuggles into me. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I pass a hand over her hair.

“Just for being here. For listening. You’re a good listener.”

She’s thankingme? I haven’t done anything. Listening is about all I can do, and it doesn’t seem like much. “Thanks.”

21

TAYLOR

Dadand I are in his car, driving down to San Diego on Christmas Eve. I eye Dad sideways from the passenger seat, assessing how he’s doing. He’s always been lean, but he lost weight after the separation. Doesn’t look like he’s lost any more, though. His eyes are kind and warm as he smiles at me. “So how are you doing, Tater Tot?”

I laugh. “Daaaad. Don’t call me that.”

He chuckles too. “I’ll never stop calling you that. Someday you’ll have kids and they’ll love it.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m never having kids.”

“Phhht.”

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