Page 90 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
Now I’m wishing I stayed inside the restaurant. I definitely don’t want to have this conversation right now. “Isabelle is only eight years old. She also thinks Bigfoot might actually exist.”
“Hunter, are you and Merritt dating seriously?”
“Yeah,” I say simply. “We are.”
Another long pause. “I guess I’m feeling like maybe you should have talked to me before letting our daughter spend so much time with someone else.”
“Cass, you and Adam were practically engaged before you let me know how serious things were. This thing with Merritt is still pretty new.”
“But not so new that she hasn’t spent time with my daughter?”
“Ourdaughter.”
Cassidy is a reasonable, level-headed person, and nothing about this conversation, from her tone to the way she’s talking in circles, feels reasonable. It reminds me a lot of the talks we had right before the divorce. I’d really love to not relive that time in my life right now. One emotional minefield at a time is about as much as I can handle.
“Look, Cass. When Isabelle is with Merritt, I’m there too. We’re all spending time together. I don’t know why this is a problem.”
“See, that’s not what Isabelle said either. She said she and Merritt have secrets.Secrets,Hunter. You know the rules on that.”
I do. One of Cassidy’s big things she learned in some baby book or blog was that we should teach Isabelle not to have secrets with other kids or adults. Surprises—yes. Secrets—no.
“I trust Merritt. And I’m sure she didn’t realize. She doesn’t have kids yet, so this is new to her.”
“That’s the other thing,” Cassidy says, and I can almost feel her winding up for a big pitch. “Isabelle said Merritt told her she didn’t ever want to have kids.”
I expected a fastball but got a curveball instead. I literally have no words to respond to this statement.
Merritt doesn’t want kids?
The thing is—I know Merritt wants kids.Wanted kids, a voice reminds me. We last talked about that when we were starry-eyed kids ourselves. But she’s been great with Isabelle. More than great, to be honest. This is like the game of telephone, but the grown-up edition. Cass tells me something Izzy told her that Merritt told her. Something clearly got lost in translation.
Didn’t it?
Because I am a package deal. I can’t imagine Merritt not knowing that. Maybe she doesn’t want to have kids of herown? Which would be … maybe disappointing. But fine, I guess. I wasn’t even thinking about that kind of future yet. Right now, I just want Merritt to stay.
And now … Cass has put my head in a weird place.
“I’m sure that’s not exactly what she meant,” I say, really hoping that’s the case. “I mean, we’re getting Isabelle’s version of the conversation.”
“I don’t know how you misunderstand something like that.”
“I’ll figure it out, but it’s not your concern. Isabelle is safe with me and with Merritt. Is there anything else you need?”
My voice is sharper than I intend, and when I hear a muffled sound on the other end of the phone, I know it’s a sob. I’d feel bad about it, but I’m already feeling enough other things.
“I’m being irrational and petty, aren’t I?” Her voice is watery.
“No,” I say, even if she is. A little bit, anyway. “You’re a concerned mom.”
“I’m also a concernedex. I worry about you, Hunter.”
“Well, you can stop,” I say, standing as I see Dante and Jasmine exit the restaurant, Merritt following right behind. “I need to go. Call me if you need anything. But Merritt isn’t up for discussion.”
So stay out of my dating life.
“Everything okay, man?” Dante asks as I’m sliding my phone back into my pocket.
“Baby news?” Merritt slips her arm through mine, her expression hopeful. And, maybe slightly jealous?
