No joining us for dinner.
No putting Lucy to bed.
No s’mores.
Not going to lie … I miss s’mores.
But today, she’s here, beaming right along with Lucy. Josh is also here. There’s clearly excitement in the air, but is there also jealousy and anger? Does he know about last week?
“That is the best news ever!” I can’t think about Josh and his feelings right now. I can’t even focus on s’mores (even though that’s all I’ve been thinking about) because Lucy walked today. I can’t help myself. I have to pluck her from her wheelchair and spin her around in circles. “Lucy, you are my idol, baby.” Burying my face in her neck, I kiss her and nuzzle her with my scratchy face until she loses control in a fit of giggles.
S’mores were great, but this beats that.
“Chad said he couldn’t believe it. He said the first step is the hardest, and I took five steps!” Lucy says out of breath by the time I set her back in her wheelchair.
When I sneak a quick glance at Tatum on the sofa with Josh, her eyes shimmer with happy tears and what I can only imagine is relief.
“We’re going to celebrate. Josh got reservations for all of us at some really fancy steak house in Kansas City,” Lucy continues with her excitement.
I force myself to give Josh and Tatum more than a quick glance. “Is that so?”
Josh takes Tatum’s hand and squeezes it like he’s claiming her, but I don’t sense any anger or jealousy in his face or demeanor as he nods. “Absolutely. If this isn’t worth celebrating, then I don’t know what is.”
Well, I know what might also be grounds for celebration—Tatum leaving Josh and coming back to me. From the looks of their linked fingers, I don’t think we’ll be celebrating that anytime soon.
“Do I have time to grab a quick shower?” I point toward the stairs.
“The reservation is at six, so you have time.” Tatum gives me a shy smile, but she can’t hold eye contact with me for more than a few seconds before averting her gaze to Lucy, the floor, or basically anywhere but me.
I’m not sure how to read that, and I’m usually an expert on reading her.
After a shower, I dust off one of my good shirts and dress pants to wear for the occasion since Josh has on a suit, Tatum’s in a dress, and Lucy has on nice pants and a sweater.
A little cologne.
A quick trim of my beard to even it out.
And a fake smile for Josh.
“Whoa … you look good, Dad. You have a hot date tonight?” Lucy teases me.
“I do. She’s a little young, but she’s the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.” I kiss the top of her head. “And she just took a really big step today.”
“Aw … Dad. Thanks, but seriously. We should take your picture in that for a dating app. I mean … your beard is trimmed, which I haven’t seen in forever, and you look kinda hot in that shirt hugging your chest like that. It’s time. If I can take a step, so can you.”
Oh, Lucy … she knows how to pack a punch.
“I need to take this call, give me one second,” Josh says, taking his phone into the kitchen.
“I’m going to check my makeup and grab my purse.” Lucy wheels herself to the master bedroom.
I remain standing in the spot Lucy just vacated a few feet from the sofa where Tatum sits, rubbing her glossed lips together while staring at the floor.
“You look beautiful.”
Her cheeks flush, and she forces her gaze to mine. “Thank you. Lucy’s right; you look great too.”
“It’s just a beard trim. She’s been insanely unrelenting about me getting on a dating site. I suppose I’ll have to eventually give in and just do it.”
Tatum swallows hard. “Y-yeah … um … you should.”
We lock gazes for a few seconds.
“Do I need to be on the lookout for a fist headed for my nose?” I nod in the direction of the kitchen and Josh on his phone.
Tatum’s brow wrinkles along with her nose. “I … I didn’t say anything yet.”
I nod slowly. “Okay, well, when you do, give me a heads-up.”
She bites the inside of her cheek and returns a slow nod.
“Are we ready?” Josh returns, slipping his phone into the pocket of his suit jacket.
“Lucy?” I call.
“Coming.”
We load into Tatum’s SUV that she bought for safety and to accommodate Lucy’s wheelchair in the back, and we drive to Kansas City for a celebratory dinner.
Me.
My daughter.
My wife.
My wife’s boyfriend.
“People are staring,” Lucy murmurs as the staff at the restaurant adjust the table and chairs to accommodate for Lucy’s wheelchair.
“Well, you’re probably the first person they’ve ever seen in this cutting-edge invention called a wheelchair,” I say, helping her get her chair adjusted in front of her place setting.