“I can do that,” I say, interjecting.
But Buzz isn’t finished. “I need you to read between the lines,” he murmurs, his elbows on his knees as he leans closer to me, as if taking me into his confidence. “It mustappearthat you’resettled down. That you’re in the process of making roots.”
There’s something in what he’s saying that I'm starting to catch on to, not going to lie the extra emphasis he’s placing on certain words helps. But would he really be advising me to try and put one over on the courts?
“Are you saying I should lie, because if—”
“No, I’m not saying that,” Buzz snaps, holding up a hand and shaking his head. “There’s nothing wrong with taking your truth and painting it a bit more, shall we say, abstract than what it really is. Kind of like the saying printed on a vehicle’s side mirrors.”
Now I’m really confused. From kids to cars in the blink of an eye. “Huh?”
“It says, ‘Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.’ In this case, it’s that the objects may have a different relationshipthan what is really there.” He looks me in the eye sternly, his expression so serious, I half-expect him to bust out a PowerPoint presentation on the importance of eye contact in intense situations.
Somewhere in the recess of my brain, though, I’m starting to understand. A lightbulb goes off at the same moment a lightning bolt hits me in the side of my head. “You think I need to have a partner, a fiancée?”
Buzz sits back in his chair and shrugs his shoulders. “You said it, I didn’t.”
“Oh, come on.” Throwing my hands in the air, I stand up. “I need to find someone to play house with me so I can be Duncan’s guardian?”
“I’m not saying you have to, but I am saying it will help for you to appear to be headed in that direction.”
There’s a knock at the door, and the young intern appears, peeking his head through the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt. Mr. Sherman, you have your last appointment of the day in a few minutes.”
“Ah.” Buzz’s eyebrows wiggle. “Thank you, Jim.” As the door closes, Buzz hops up and looks at his hands. “I should get prepared for this. How are you feeling?”
How am I feeling? Horrible. Confused. Angry. Not enough.
“I guess I’ll be okay. Once I find someone to marry me.”
“That’s the spirit.” Buzz chuckles as the door opens again and a small woman carrying a bag of supplies enters, shooting a glance my way as she does. Seeing the look on my face, Buzz grins and holds up his hands. “Weekly manicure. I look at my hands a lot and I can’t stand a hangnail. The bonus is the hand and palm massages. Amazing. My hands actually feel relaxed when we’re done. Like wet, limp noodles ready for some sauce.”
Only in Sweetkiss Creek.
Standing, I hold out my hand and shake his. “Thanks for your time, Buzz. I appreciate the advice.”
“I assume you want me across this?”
“Please.”
He nods to the papers on his desk. “I’ll keep those here, then, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure Duncan stays with you and your family. But in the meantime, get him more settled here and into a routine that’s with you and the rest of the Porters. Something tangible where we can show that he’s thriving under your care. You’ve got job stability, that’s not a problem, but we want them to see you as a dad.”
A few minutes later, after I’ve said goodbye and turned down the offer to get my nails done as well, I send a text to my mom so they know I’m okay. Then I point my car in the direction of a certain apartment building in town.
I could use a friend right now. My best friend.
Ineedto see Georgie.
EIGHT
Georgie
Locking the door of Pages and Prose, I grab the pile of empty boxes on the sidewalk beside me, carefully balancing everything so I can walk home. My apartment is only a few minutes away, which is awesome. I love the proximity; it was one of the reasons I’d chosen to rent that particular apartment. On the days I forget my lunch, I can run home and fix myself something. Plus, I get back each day to take Toto out at least once before I have to close the shop. I highly recommend living close to where you work to everyone.
When I opened my shop, I made sure it was on Magnolia Lane. It’s the shopping area in Sweetkiss Creek, a little haven nestled down a lane in the middle of small-town Americana. If you’re wondering where its name comes from, of course there are gorgeous magnolia trees lining the street. When they’re all blooming, the area smells absolutely divine. It’s the best.
My daily commute home includes a stroll past cafes, a florist, stores with boutique clothing and upscale children’s items, bespoke jewelers who make one-of-a-kind baubles and other sparkly things for those who want one-of-a-kind things,and so much more. It’s the perfect place for me. At least now it is. Even though my initial move here was supposed to be temporary, it seems that Sweetkiss Creek could be my forever home.
I shift the boxes from one side to the other in my arms and think about how the move here changed my perspective on life. Growing up the way I had wasn’t easy, yet I’d done it. I made it to being an adult and mostly on my own. Actually, I take back the word “mostly”—I made it on my own. Period.
