Page 44 of Home Safe

Unable to wait any longer, I send a text to Danae asking her to call me when she wakes up. Ten seconds later, my phone rings.

“Good morning,” I greet.

“Is something wrong?” Danae immediately asks.

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong,” I say. “Sorry, apparently I need to get better at my text message phrasing so I stop unintentionally freaking you out.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she says. “I need to rewire my brain to stop assuming the worst about every text message.”

“You don’t need to change anything about that beautiful brain. I’m perfectly capable of changing my text patterns. You tell me—what’s the best way to phrase a text if absolutely nothing is wrong and I’m just looking for any excuse to hear your voice?” I ask.

I hear the smile in her tone when she responds. “Well, you could say, ‘Nothing’s wrong, just have a quick question.’ Or maybe, ‘Nothing’s wrong, but call when you have a free minute.’ Or even a blatant, ‘Nothing’s wrong, just want to hear your voice.’”

“I’m sensing an overt ‘nothing’s wrong’ theme here,” I deadpan.

Danae laughs as she replies, “You asked!”

“You’re right. Thank you for telling me. I’m going to save ‘Nothing’s wrong’ as an automated message prompt,” I say. “Now, Ihavebeen looking for any excuse to hear your voice again, but I also have a specific ask. Do you have any plans for the snow day today?”

“Uhhh, not really,” she responds. “I hate driving in snowy conditions. So I was planning to take Jason over to the little bit of green space by the pool in our complex to see if we could build a snowman before other people beat us to it. Why?”

Perfect. This is panning out exactly how I envisioned.

“Well, I happen to have all-wheel drive and exemplary winter driving skills, so I was going to ask if I could come pick up you and Jason to bring you over here. I have a huge yard, so we can build a whole army of snowmen together,” I say.

There’s a pause before Danae asks, “You really want to do that? You’d do that for us?”

“I already bought sleds and snow gear for everyone last night. Maybe that was presumptuous, or maybe I’m showing my hand a little too much, but I know the clock is ticking on my shot to convince you to continue dating me before I leave town.” Danae huffs a short laugh, making me smile. “I’d really like to spend the day with you and Jason. Sam will be here too, but otherwise we’ll have a quiet day to be together without other prying eyes. What do you think?”

Danaehmmms, and the sound is teasing, maybe even flirtatious. “I think I love that idea,” she says. “Let me run it by Jason when he wakes up, but I can’t imagine him turning down that offer. If he tries, I’ll convince him otherwise. Because I’d love to see youagain.”

Her words shoot confidence through my veins, and I abandon my cup of coffee in order to have plenty of time to shower and make sure I look presentable.

An hour later, we’ve transferred Jason’s booster seat to the back of my Jeep, and we’re on our way back to my house. Despite my winter driving prowess, I purposely drive extra slowly to keep Danae’s nerves at bay.

“Wow! This place is so cool!” Jason exclaims with awe as we pull up to my house. On the scale of professional athletes’ homes, it’s modest in size. But the gated neighborhood provides security and privacy, plus large lot sizes. Which will serve us well today.

When we walk through the garage door, we’re met with the smell of cinnamon. There’s a pan of cinnamon rolls on the kitchen counter, but zero mess anywhere in sight. I quirk an eyebrow at Sam.

“Frozen section,” she explains.

“That makes a lot more sense,” I say.

She smacks my arm before replying, “They’ll still taste as gooey and delicious as homemade. You want some sugar before we go out in the snow, my guy?” she asks Jason, who enthusiastically high-fives her.

The four of us sit around the table enjoying cinnamon rolls and coffee. As I pour a cup of coffee for Danae, I decide to break my one-cup rule and pour one for myself. I want to indulge in the ritual of having a morning cup of coffee along with Danae—something about those shared mundane moments feels the most intimate.

After we’re all thoroughly caffeinated (or sugared-up, in Jason’s case), we sort through the snow gear Sam purchased last night. She impressively guessed everyone’s sizes correctly, so we’re soon bundled up and ready to head out into the snow. My backyard has just enough slope for some low-key sledding, so she also purchased four sleds.

“What should we do first? What’s your favorite snow activity—sledding or building snowmen?” I ask Jason.

His brow furrows seriously. “I’ve never been sledding before. And my hands and feet always got too cold before I could finish building a snowman.” My heart catches at his unaware admission. His eyes meet mine with a look of total trust. “Do you think sledding or building a snowman is more fun?”

I catch Danae’s gaze above Jason’s head. She gives me a sad smile. “We should definitely start with sledding,” I tell Jason. “Do you want to ride with me your first time down the hill?”

“Yes!” he yells with a jump in the air.

Taking one of the longer sleds to the top of the slope, I sit down and help Jason plop down in front of me. I hand him the string and say, “You hold on here, and I’ll make sure we don’t tip over.”

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