Page 37 of The Best Bad Decision

Amie’s wearing a pretty orange bikini decorated with golden threads, and she laughs as Maisy splashes her with water. Maisy is wearing a matching orange ruffled one-piece with yellow armband floaties, and she’s sitting in a giant round floatie that looks like a donut with pink frosting and sprinkles.

My parents went to town once I told them about Maisy. They bought just about every pool toy they could find for their surprise granddaughter, and plenty of books, toys, and dresses, too. Since they arrived, Maisy and Amie have both been welcomed with open arms by my parents. I couldn’t have asked for a better response.

“Daddy, pool!” Maisy shouts from the shallow end of the water, and I look over from my favourite sun lounger. My mom jerks her head in Maisy’s direction as if to say‘get over there’,and my dad hides a smirk with his beer bottle. So far, they’ve given me shit about how whipped I am approximately once an hour. Nevertheless, I rise from my seat and jog over, lowering myself into the opposite end of the pool and swimming lazy strokes towards her.

Normally, I’d cannonball and splash everyone, but I don’t want to encourage Maisy to do that before she can swim on her own. Afterwards, though, cannonball class will most definitely be in session.

“Daddy splash!” Maisy shouts out again as I get closer. She scoops water with her hands and flings it towards me as I reach the halfway point. I glance over at Amie who shrugs, shoulders shaking with the laughter she’s trying to stifle. I smirk and fling a handful of water towards her, before turning my attention to my little girl, who is waving for my attention. I splash her too, and when she shouts my name again, I duck beneath the surface and pop up again, a few inches closer.

It’s the funniest thing she’s ever seen. She screeches with laughter and my heart sings—making this girl happy is the most incredible feeling I’ve ever had, and I want to do it every single day for the rest of my life. Her laugh is the best sound I’ve ever heard.

We continue the game until I’m right in front of her, and then I duck up and resurface beneath her, lifting Maisy and her floatie high above my head like a trophy. Sheismy trophy—the best prize, my greatest achievement. Whatever happens, or doesn’t, between me and Amie, we’ll always have Maisy, our greatest gift, and she’ll always have us.

Maisy and I horse around in the water a while longer, and it’s not until I climb out with Maisy in my arms that I realise Amie left the pool. I’m not sure when she left, but my eyes scan the backyard until I find her on a sun lounger beside my mom, listening to her talk but watching me and our daughter with a soft smile. When she realises I’ve caught her, she looks away quickly, back to her conversation with my mom.

We leave my parents’ house with another armful of gifts for both Amie and Maisy, and a huge bag of leftovers to split between me and my girls.

I’m not sure when I started thinking of Amie and Maisy asmy girls, but to me, that’s exactly what they are. It’s what they’ve always been. Amie and I have talked every night since I left London, and ourconversation is easy. We talk about everything under the sun—Maisy, of course, work, her friends, my friends. We watch movies together. The only thing we haven’t talked about is that night in Singapore. The night I’ve never been able to forget. The night I replay in my mind every damn night, cock in my fist, jerking myself to release with her name on my lips. The night I met the woman who took up residence in my soul and never left.

I’m falling headlong down a spiral for Amie, for her brilliant mind and her wild heart.

I’m falling for her.

The road is quiet. All I see ahead is a heat haze from the high sun; to the sides, just desert. I glance in the rearview mirror to see Maisy looking out of the window, fascinated. She has Roger’s face pressed against the glass so he can see too.

“Daddy,” Maisy says, and I glance in the mirror again to see her still looking at the vast desert landscape. “How does the planes fly?”

“Wow, Maisy Mouse, that’s a big question!” Amie exclaims, turning in her seat to look at our girl. Maisy giggles.

“Can I show her? With the window?” I ask quietly, and Amie nods. I push the button to lower Maisy’s window and look at her again in the mirror.

“Okay Maisy Girl, you gotta listen to me right now. I’m gonna show you, but you have to promise me you won’t try this unless me or Mommy say it’s okay, okay?”

Maisy nods seriously, her green eyes wide, and I flick my eyes to Amie who offers a grateful smile. The last thing either of us needs is for Maisy to be sticking her hands out of windows on every damn car ride.

“Okay, put your hand out the window.”

She gasps, and slowly, reaches one hand up until it’s outside the car. The other clutches Roger in a vice grip, like he might take flight through the open window too. I tap the brakes and slow the car to a crawl on the empty road.

“Now put all of your fingers together and turn it like this,” I say, holding out one hand to show her. My fingers are in a line with my palm flat. My pinky faces back and down, and my thumb points up and forward as I hold my hand at a forty-five degree angle. I check my mirror again to see Maisy’s hand copying mine.

“Hold it just like that, Maisy Girl,” I say, and tap the gas to speed up. As we pick up speed, I see Maisy’s hand lift when I glance back. She shrieks with delight.

“There ya go, Maisy Girl,” I laugh. “You’re flying! Your hand is doing exactly what the wings do. So when the plane goes really fast down the runway, all that air makes the wings go up, just like your hand, and that’s how the plane takes off.”

“I flying!” she cries, letting the air rush around her arm and lift it. “Roger, I flying!”

“I’m leaving Phoenix.” I push away from the kitchen counter. Maisy is fast asleep, and Amie is making tea, twirling the label from the teabagaround the handle of a mug while she waits for the water to boil. I snag a bottle of water from the fridge and lean against it.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve applied for a base change.”

Amie raises a brow.

“I want to be closer, Amie. To Maisy. To you. I don’t wanna be flying out of San Francisco, living in Phoenix, spending all my time commuting between the two when I could have that time with my girls.”

I don’t miss the way her eyes flare when I saymy girls.Or the way her breath leaves her lips with a tiny, barely audible puff.

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