Page 38 of If Love Had A Manual

My chest tightens because suddenly it feels like she’s four years old again and sneaking into my bed. “Once upon a time,” I whisper, “there was a garden filled with flowers…”

I keep my voice low as I turn old memories into something softer for her to hold onto. I tell her about Mom’s laugh. Her singing. How she used to dance around the kitchen with socks on, even when she had no rhythm. How she always smelled like coconuts.

Tess doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her start to relax beside me.

By the end, my voice is rough around the edges, but I manage to get the words out until her breathing evens out.

I lean in and kiss her temple. “Goodnight, Tess. Sweet dreams.”

Thirteen

Iwake up to the jab of a pointy teenage elbow in my ribs. Seriously, I’ll need a second bed if she’s going to make surprise visits a habit.

Despite the mild discomfort and the emotional whiplash she tends to bring with her, I’m glad she showed up.

At some point in the morning, we shuffle into the kitchen in matching zombie mode, pajamas wrinkled and hair in messy knots. Sunlight filters lazily through my windows, making my cramped kitchen feel warmer than usual.

“Pancakes?” I suggest, pulling a mixing bowl from the cabinet.

She rubs her eyes. “Only if they have chocolate chips.”

“Demanding much?”

She shrugs, sleepy but smug because she knows she’s going to get her way. “You said you missed me. Prove it with sugar.”

“Touché.”

Half an hour later, we’re shoveling down enough chocolate chip pancakes to feed a small army. Tess’s mood has drastically improved, though her phone still dominates her attention between bites.

“So,” I venture cautiously, sipping my orange juice. “What’s your plan today? Is Dad going to freak when you stroll back home?”

“He probably hasn’t even noticed I left.”

I want to defend my father out of sheer instinct, but I bite it back. I’ve done it for too long, and she’s old enough to make up her own mind.

“We can’t hang out here all day. I’ll have to bring you home eventually.”

She stuffs the last bite of pancake into her mouth and gives me a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah. Sure.”

I have her with me for today. Everything else? We’ll cross that bridge later.

∞∞∞

After breakfast, Tess and I head to the park. She trails just behind me, scuffing her shoes on the sidewalk and periodically scanning the playground like she’s half-hoping for something more interesting than our quiet stroll.

“How’s school?” I ask.

The blush that rockets across her face tells me everything I need to know.

“Oh my God.” I stop in my tracks and grab her shoulders. “There’s a boy.”

“There’s not.”

“There absolutely is.”

Tess hides her face in her hoodie, but I see the smile fighting its way through. “His name’s Ben.”

I squint at her. “Ben. That’s a suspiciously innocent name. What’s he done to you?”

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