Page 11 of Hiss and Tell
“More like doing the bare minimum of being a decent neighbor.” But his shoulders relax slightly. “Though I’ll admit, it’s nice when people see past the…” He gestures vaguely at his head.
“The incredibly cool living hair that helps you reach books on high shelves?”
This startles a genuine laugh from him. “That’s… that’s definitely a new perspective.”
“Mama! Mr. Sebastian! Look what I found!” Milo runs up, clutching something carefully in his cupped hands. A tiny green frog peers out between his fingers.
“Careful, Bug. Remember what we said about—”
“Being gentle with small creatures,” he finishes. “I know. Can we show him the water? Please?”
Sebastian crouches down, somehow making his massive frame seem less intimidating. “You know, frogs actually prefer the marshy areas over there. Should we help him find his way home?”
Milo nods solemnly, and they head toward a quieter section of the boardwalk. Watching them, something warm and dangerous unfurls in my chest.
Remember, this is fake. Just a means to an end. Don’t get attached to the way he treats Milo like a person instead of a burden. Don’t notice how the sunlight plays across his broad shoulders, or how his patient smile makes your heart skip. There are a thousand reasons you’ve sworn off men and dating.
“Mama! Come see!”
Shaking off the thoughts, I follow them to the marsh. This is fine. Everything’s fine. Just a fake date with a gorgeous librarian who’s amazing with my kid.
The problem is, part of me wishes this weren’t pretend at all.
Chapter Eight
Aspen
Monday morning hits like a freight train after yesterday’s surprisingly pleasant lake walk. Milo bounces through breakfast, still chattering about Sebastian’s gentle way with the frog and asking if we can “visit Mr. Sebastian’s house sometime.”
“We’ll see, Bug,” I say, packing his lunch with hands that still remember the electric moment when Sebastian steadied me at the produce stand. “Remember, he’s just helping us with the library situation.”
“But he likes us, right?” Milo’s question carries the weight of a four-year-old’s need for security. “He’s not going to disappear like Daddy does?”
My chest tightens. “Mr. Sebastian keeps his promises, Bug. When he says he’ll do something, he does it.”
Unlike some people, I don’t add, but Milo’s relieved smile tells me he understands the difference.
The morning drop-off at Little Dragons is its usual controlled chaos, but Miss Lee pulls me aside.
“I wanted to mention,” she says, glancing around to make sure we’re not overheard, “the father-son breakfast is in a few weeks and I need your permission slip to allow him to accompany Milo.”
Right. The breakfast Milo’s been chattering about for days, carefully organizing his thoughts about what he’ll tell Derek about his latest dinosaur discoveries.
“He’s so excited about it,” Miss Lee continues. “He’s been practicing his presentation about stegosaurus armor plating. Such a bright boy.”
“Derek confirmed he’ll be there,” I say, trying to project more confidence than I feel. “Milo’s made a whole list of things to show him.”
“Wonderful! It’s always special when the children get to share their passions with their parents. I have the slip ready for you to sign.” I sign the bottom of the page that will allow Derek to enter Little Dragons with his son.
Walking back to my car, I pull out my phone and send Derek a text:Don’t forget. Father-son breakfast. Milo’s SO excited to see you and show you his project.I add the date and time in a separate text so it will be easier for him to find.
The last time Derek picked Milo up was Presidents’ Day weekend, almost a month ago now. Before that, it was New Year’s Day—and he’d been three hours late, blaming traffic from his New Year’s Eve party. The pattern is becoming depressingly predictable: big promises, enthusiastic planning, then some crisis that makes follow-through impossible.
His response comes quickly:Wouldn’t miss it! Can’t wait to see what the little scientist has been working on.
Relief floods through me. Maybe this time really will be different. Maybe Derek’s finally ready to be the consistent presence Milo needs.
The rest of the day passes in its usual blur—Harmony Market shift, diner shift, client calls squeezed into break times. But underneath the routine chaos, I find myself thinking about Sebastian. How his snakes had seemed to dance with joy when Milo giggled.
