“Really? I have free will and car keys, Max. I’m where I want to be. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”
“Then let’s go get some takeout and head to my place.”
“Actually, what if you came to my place instead?” I asked.”
“I can go to your house?” Sadie wondered.
“If your dad says it’s okay,” I replied.
“We’ll bring the takeout and meet you there.”
“I’ll go pick up my laundry and hide it in the closet,” I laughed. “Hey, don’t forget Mooshie,” I called. Sadie dashed back and grabbed her stuffed bunny off the bench before they left.
I was excited about having them over, about showing Sadie my cookbooks and stuff. I felt a bubble of joy start in my chest.
12
Max
I was surprised Rachel invited us to her place. It would have felt like a date if it weren’t for Sadie. It occurred to me that I was hiding behind my daughter to avoid getting involved, but the fact was, I wasn’t dragging my child through a series of failed adult relationships. We went to get Chinese food and took it back to her apartment. It was small and simple, but Sadie was so thrilled to go there. We crowded around her small kitchen table and unpacked the food. Sadie promptly ate all the shrimp out of the lo mein carton and some noodles and zero vegetables. Rachel and she had a long talk about trying some, and she eventually nibbled at a snap pea.
Sadie was sitting on the couch looking at Rachel’s first cookbook, a kids’ one that had a lot of pictures, while we cleaned up. When I turned to see if Sadie wanted any more of her water, I saw her head thrown back, fast asleep.
“I think maybe we should go. All the fresh air and exercise did her in. I know you’re tired, too. You took a little nap in the park.”
“Power nap. I’m good for another twelve hours,” she joked.
“You have to take care of yourself. Besides, this little girl is going to wake up ready to go in the morning. It meant a lot to her to have you come to the park today, and I appreciate you inviting us over to eat. From now on I’ll make sure we leave you alone on the weekends,” I said, uncomfortable. I didn’t want to intrude, didn’t want her to think that entertaining my daughter was her job seven days a week despite being hired for only four.
“I wanted to be there. It was fun. I wish she hadn’t crashed so soon. I wanted to show her my pink lemonade recipe out of that book and make it with her. I have raspberries in the freezer we could’ve used,” she said.
“You’re incredible,” I blurted out.
“Thank you,” she said, leveling a look at me that could’ve burned my clothes off.
“With Sadie,” I amended, “you’re very engaged with her and generous with your time.”
“Right,” she said, seeing through that cop out.
She was amazing with Sadie, but she was incredible in a lot of ways. Like the way it felt when she tipped her head against my shoulder, the looseness of her warm body against my arm. I had wanted to dip my face to hers and take her mouth, kiss her awake. I had to fight the urge to kiss her all the time now.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” I said. “Thank you for today.”
“Anytime. I mean it, Max. You’re not an inconvenience to me and neither is Sadie.”
“I never said that.”
“You’ve suggested it in a dozen ways, like you’re imposing on me and my wild social life of clipping online coupons to save more money for the down payment on the diner. Listen—I’m going to say this one time. I’ve worked at that place since I was a teenager. One day and that was it for me. Don’t think for a second I haven’t been offered more money to work in Overton. There’s a bakery that wanted to sell my pies, and if I’d accepted the contract, I wouldn’t need to babysit to make up a down payment, that’s for sure.”
“Why didn’t you do it?”
“My pies are a draw to the diner. They attract a lot of customers. People come from Overton every day to eat and get some pie and then buy a whole one to go. If I made those available to them in a bakery, that would mean less traffic at the diner, fewer regular customers from out of town. It would’ve been good for me financially, and personally if I had wanted to build a brand, but bad for the business at the diner. I knew I’d own it someday, and I made sure to keep my pies exclusive to the diner.”
“You play the long game, is what you’re saying.”
“No, I’m loyal is what I’m saying. When something feels right to me, I’m not looking for anything else. I knew the first day I waited tables that the diner was the right fit for me. I could imagine what I’d change, how I’d do things differently, but the goal never wavered for me. I may not have a college degree or a million bucks, but I know what I want and I’m loyal. And that’s worth a whole hell of a lot, Max.”