Page 22 of From Nowhere

Do I quiz her to make sure? Do I ask where she learned it?

With a slow nod, I map out this conversation when I should be punting it to Amos. “Well, sex is how babies are made—”

“Dad! Duh.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” I cross my arms over my chest. “People—adults—marriedadults sometimes have sex because they love each other, and it’s a way to bond.” I uncross my arms and lace my fingers behind my head. This is not what I had planned for today. “And it can feel good,” I continue. “However, some people also enjoy watching it, like how I used to play football, but now I just watch it.”

Dear god.Did I just make sex a spectator sport in my daughter’s eyes?

“What I mean is—”

“So Pa doesn’t have sex anymore, he just watches it?”

Make it stop!

“Sometimes. Not very often. And only when he’s alone and needs to”—I rub my forehead—“relax.”

When this train wreck of a conversation ends, I need to clear shelf space for my Worst Dad of the Year trophy. She’s ten. I’m sure there are books on this, but what should I say?I’ll get back to you.

“Okay,” Lola says with a shrug.

Okay? That’s it? We’re done?

“Are you going to help me do yard work today?” I ask, grasping for any change in subject.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

She frowns.

“Do you want me to heat a breakfast burrito for you?”

“Dad, I think doughnuts go with yard work.”

“Nice try. What if pizza for dinner goes with yard work?”

“Cinnamon breadsticks for dessert?”

“That can be arranged.”

“Fine. I’ll help.”

“Attagirl.” I shut her door and head upstairs to kill Amos.

Chapter Seven

Maren

“We need to clean the house,” Calvin “Fitz” Fitzgerald says the second I open my bedroom door in the morning. With the bucket of supplies in his hand, he rounds the corner into his and Will’s bathroom. He’s my grumpy roommate, but he’s marrying a sunshine, so he’ll even out.

“This means my BFF is coming home!” I clap my hands several times before propping myself against the doorframe.

Fitz eyes me over his shoulder while squeezing cleaner into the toilet bowl. Over six feet tall, with thick brown hair, blue eyes, and a sexy scowl, Fitz could be a centerfold for a firefighter calendar, just like Will. But his personality isn’t as sexy. He’s a smoke jumper who would rather read a book than socialize.

“I think she’smyBFF,” he mumbles.

“She’s your fiancée.”

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