Page 8 of Turn My Crank

As we walk up the path to my front door, an idea strikes me. "You know, since you're both here already, why don't I make you dinner? As a thank you for the ride and the help with my car." The words come out in a rush before I can overthink them.

Susie's face lights up. "Can we, Dad? Please?"

Colby hesitates, and for a moment I think he's going to refuse. Then his face softens. "If you're sure it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all," I say, unlocking my door. "I was planning to cook anyway, and I always make too much for just me."

My kitchen is small but functional, and I quickly set about pulling ingredients from the fridge and pantry. Susie insists on helping, so I set her up at the counter with a bowl of potatoes to wash. Colby leans against the doorframe, watching us with a thoughtful expression.

"You're good with her," he says quietly, his eyes meeting mine over Susie's head.

I smile, feeling a pang in my chest. "She makes it easy."

As I work on preparing dinner—roast chicken with herbs, mashed potatoes, and green beans—I find myself imagining what it would be like if this were my life. Coming home to Susie's chatter, cooking dinner while she helps, with Colby nearby, his presence warm and solid. It's a dangerous thought, one that I know will only lead to heartache, but I can't seem to stop myself.

Dinner is a lively affair, with Susie dominating the conversation. She tells me about her weekend plans with her dad, the tree house they're building in their backyard, and the puppy they're thinking of adopting.

"She's been begging for a dog since she could talk," Colby explains, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiles. "I finally gave in."

"I've named him already," Susie says proudly. "Pancake."

"Pancake?" I laugh. "That's an unusual name for a dog."

"It's because pancakes are my favorite breakfast," she explains seriously. "And the dog will be my favorite too."

After dinner, Susie helps me clear the table, and then asks if she can watch TV. I show her to the living room and find a children's movie on one of the streaming services.

"Come sit outside with me?" Colby asks as I return to the kitchen. He nods toward my back door. "I noticed you have a fire pit in the yard. Might be nice to light it up."

Twenty minutes later, we're sitting in Adirondack chairs around a crackling fire, each nursing a bottle of beer. The night air has a slight chill to it, but the fire keeps us warm. Through the window, I can see Susie curled up on my couch, completely absorbed in the movie.

"Thank you for dinner," Colby says, his voice low. "It's been a long time since someone cooked for us."

"It was my pleasure," I reply honestly. "It's nice having people to cook for."

He takes a swig of his beer, then asks, "You live here alone?"

"Just me," I confirm. "I had a roommate when I first moved here, but she got married last year."

He looks at me, his gaze intense in the firelight. "What about you? Never wanted the whole marriage and kids thing?"

The question hits a tender spot, and I look away, focusing on the flames. "I wanted it," I say softly. "Very much."

Something in my tone must give me away, because Colby leans forward, his expression concerned. "Lacy?"

I take a deep breath. I don't talk about this often, but something about the night, the fire, and Colby's quiet presence makes me want to share. "I found out last year that I can't have children," I say, the words still painful to speak aloud. "Premature ovarian failure, they called it. Basically early menopause."

"I'm so sorry," Colby says, and there's no pity in his voice, just genuine empathy.

"It was a shock," I admit. "I'd always assumed I'd have a family someday. Kids of my own." I wrap my arms around myself, feeling suddenly vulnerable. "That's why I became a teacher, I guess. I've always loved children. And now... well, now my students are the closest I'll get to having my own."

"Is that why you're so good with Susie? Why you go above and beyond for your students?"

I nod. "I pour all that maternal energy into my classroom. It's not the same, but it helps."

Colby is quiet for a long moment, just watching me. Then he says, "You know, there are other ways to have a family. Adoption, fostering, being a stepmom..."

Our eyes meet, and something electric passes between us. I swallow hard, unable to look away from the intensity in his gaze.

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