Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Do we need an agenda?” Fisher asks as I shut the door behind him. “You talked about a movie. Do you want to do that or the games first?”
Riley purses her lips and takes in a breath like a sage old woman about to give some important advice. “I think we need to make snacks a priority. Mommy, can we make popcorn?”
“Homemade popcorn?” Fisher says with a groan. “That’s my actual favorite. I’ve brought some snacks too, but maybe we can get to them later.”
Riley’s eyes light up. “You brought snacks? Let me see.”
“Riley,” I say. “Mind your manners.”
“Snacks are important,” Fisher says. He pulls out a smaller bag from the duffle. It’s stacked with candy, marshmallows, chips—everything Riley and all other eight-year-olds love.
I shake my head. I don’t think she’ll sleep for a week just from being in close proximity to that many snacks.
Fisher slides the snack bag onto the counter and I pull out the popcorn machine. Riley collects the popping corn from the cupboard. I then set to work on melting some butter while Riley and Fisher figure out the popcorn.
I steal glances at them from where I’m cutting off a chunk of butter. They’re cute together. Fisher doesn’t try to dominate the situation. He feigns ignorance at all the appropriate times and encourages her every step of the way. I sigh and think that if anyone was looking at the three of us now, they’d think this was a pretty perfect family.
Except we’re not a family and Fisher is leaving soon.
Too soon.
“That crunchy chocolate is Mom’s favorite,” Riley says as she pours the melted butter over the gigantic bowl of popcorn. “We have to save that one for her.”
“Which one?” Fisher asks, shooting me a glance.
“The blue one. The one that’s got cereal in the chocolate.”
“Oh, that’s a good one. But you’re right, we should save that one for your mom.”
“Right. Because we have the rest. And the popcorn.”
Fisher laughs. “Right.”
“Did we decide on a movie?” I ask.
Riley glances at Fisher. “I really like Disney movies. Is that too babyish for you?”
“Babyish?” he asks. “Movies aren’t for babies. And do you know that Disney makes those movies so adults will like them too?”
“Really?” Riley asks.
“Really. What one were you thinking?”
She glances at me. “I was thinking Brave. Would that be good?”
I nod encouragingly. “I think that sounds perfect.”
I find the movie, Riley and Fisher grab the snacks, along with water for everyone, and we all head to the couch.
“Mommy, we need a blanket,” Riley says.
“I’m on it,” I say, and head to my bedroom to get the one from my bed.
When I come back, Riley and Fisher have arranged themselves so Riley’s in the middle, Fisher is on one side, and there’s a space for me on the other side of Riley. They look so comfortable together, like hanging out like this is something we do every Sunday.
“Blanket is ready. Should I get two?” I ask.
“No, it’s better if we all huddle under one,” Riley says. “It’s cozier.”
I can’t help but think that my daughter is trying to create a family out of the three of us. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. We were going to end up watching a movie, even if Fisher wasn’t here.
But he is here.
I take a seat next to Riley, and I can feel Fisher watching me. It’s strange having him here with me and my daughter together. And at the same time, it’s entirely comfortable.
Fisher’s resting his arm on the back of the couch, and he reaches out his hand like I should hold it. I lean back, resting my head in his palm, wanting the connection but unable to hold hands with him in front of Riley. We’re already at complicated. We don’t need to shoot straight past it.
After an hour and a half of Brave, all the popcorn has been eaten, plus too much of my favorite chocolate and half a bag of marshmallows. Fisher and I have shared at least a dozen smiles and glances, and I’m one glass of wine away from asking him to move in.
“What next, Mom?” Riley asks, throwing the blanket off us all.
“Well… what about one of the games Fisher brought?” I suggest.
“Let’s see.” She heads off to nose through the bag.
“You okay?” I ask him. He’s probably hating this. People without kids usually max out of kid-friendly activities pretty quickly, no matter how enthusiastic they are to start with.
“I know,” Riley says, holding a Monopoly box. “We should have a kitchen disco and then a board game.”
Fisher looks horrified, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Great idea,” I say. “You figure out the music. I’ll clear the furniture. Can you get the other end of the couch, Fisher?”
He leaps off the couch. “Where are we clearing it to?” He glances around at our small open living area. There are not many places it will go, but we don’t need a big space.