Page 28 of My Merry Mistake
“She thinks I’m a joke, Dad,” I say miserably. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just carrying a torch. She’s kind of like . . . the one who got away.” I shrug. “Reminds me a little bit of Momma. The stubborn side, anyway.”
Dad purses his lips. “Well, I say go for it, kiddo.”
“Easy for you to say,” I groan. “You’re not the one who could make a fool of himself.”
“Son, if you’re not willing to fall flat on your face, then you don’t deserve a woman like your momma.” His eyebrows are raised, and then he asks, “Is she worth it?”
Without hesitation I say, “One hundred percent.”
He shrugs like he’s just made his point and the case is closed, then takes another sip. “You coming home for Christmas?”
I nod. “Just for a couple of days. I get some time off, not a lot, but yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Good,” he says. “I think the whole family will be home for the first time in . . . a while.”
The words hang there, feeling wrong somehow. Because the “whole family” will never be home again.
I know Pop hasn’t forgotten—sometimes it’s just easier not to say the hard things out loud.
My eyes drift to the glove box. It’s still in there.
“Let me know how it goes with the girl,” my dad says, pulling me back to the present. “And take good care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“And live it?—”
“Like it matters,” I say, finishing the thought.
He grabs the brim of his hat, tips it in a nod, and the screen goes dark, but my dad’s words don’t disappear so quickly.
Raya
“It sounds like you and I want the same things,” Justin says after we get the initial pleasantries out of the way. “I have to say, your approach to taking matters into your own hands is different. And clever.”
I give him a quick smile. “I think it’s important to be honest about what you want.”
“And you want a partner,” he says without any judgment.
“That’s right,” I say. “I don’t need the flowers and the chocolates and the boombox over your head outside my window.”
“The what?” He looks puzzled.
Hmm. Not knowing theSay Anythingreference could be a red flag or a green one. I make a mental note to make a real note about that later.
“Just not all of the”—I wave my hand around, looking for the words—“romance. Just another person to shoulder the responsibilities. That may or may not be you. That’s what I’d like to find out.”
“I’m open to this experiment,” he says.
“There’s one other thing.” I take a quick drink of my latte. “You can’t tell anyone that this is how we met. I have a nosy, albeit wonderful, family, and I don’t want them to think I’m?—”
“Settling?”
“No, not settling. Cutting corners, more like,” I say. “They don’t quite understand. Both of my sisters are hopelessly in love. My parents too, come to think of it.”
His eyebrows pinch. “You—don’t want to hold out for that?”
I shrug. “I think love comes in many different forms, including a well-matched pair who respect each other and have similar goals.”
