“I invite people over,” I protested. I didn’t like the idea that I was a shy sort of widower. Maybe that was true, though.
“No,” she lowered her voice. “You really don’t.”
“Well, I did,” I told her. “And you’re welcome to join us for dinner.”
“It’s a date, though, right?” Bailey looked a little confused.
“It’s a date.”
“Won’t it be weird having your kid on your date?”
“You’re an important part of my life, Bailey. Any woman I date should know that.”
Bailey and I were a packaged deal. We came together. If someone wanted to date me, they had to accept my daughter. That was important to me. I had the feeling that Kinsley wasn’t the kind of girl who was bothered by things like her boyfriend having a kid, but only time would tell.
*
As it turned out, I needn’t have worried. Kinsley was very sweet when she found out that not only did I have a daughter, but that she would be joining us for dinner. The three of us sat down to eat, and the conversation flowed easily. Kinsley shared that she was pretty new to Savored, but that she liked working at the bakery. Bailey told everyone how much she loved eating cupcakes. Then there was me.
It was hard not to talk about Ashley. It had been almost exactly a year since she’d passed away. Sometimes it felt like much longer. Sometimes it still felt like a nightmare. Sitting around the table with Kinsley and Bailey reminded me of sharing a table with Ashley so many times. While I tried to be normal and casual during the conversation, I found myself standing up abruptly about halfway through dinner.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Excuse me for a moment.”
Bailey and Kinsley both looked up at me.
“Of course,” Kinsley said. “Do you need help with anything?”
“I’m okay. I just need to step outside for a moment.”
Kinsley’s brow furrowed, but she nodded. Okay, so she understood. It didn’t mean that what I was doing was okay or right. I didn’t like the fact that I was essentially ditching our date, but I really did need a moment to myself. That was one of the things I kept trying to teach Bailey. There was nothing wrong with taking a breather if you needed one. Bailey didn’t often need that advice, though. Sometimes it seemed like she was doing a better job living than I was.
There were moments during your life when you needed to take a break from other people, and that was okay. There was nothing wrong with saying, “Hey, I need a second to clear my head.” That wasn’t wrong at all. Still, when I was the one doing it, it felt difficult. I stood on the back porch and took a deep breath. I could do this. I was fine.
It was my first date since Ashley died, though. It was my first date in forever. I didn’t feel like I was betraying her. I knew that logically, she wasn’t coming back. Moving on didn’t mean I hadn’t loved her. Still, it was strange to have a different woman at the house, especially one I really was romantically interested in.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I heard the screen door open. I didn’t turn around at first. Instead, I waited, listening to the wind and looking at the stars. The sun was setting earlier and earlier. It was one of those side-effects of winter looming just ahead, I thought.
“Hey,” Kinsley said from behind me.
“Hey,” I turned back around. “Sorry about that. I just needed…”
What?
What did I need?
How could I put into words why I was randomly upset and needed to take a breather?
“It’s okay,” Kinsley said gently. She took a step toward me and put her hand on my shoulder. “Bailey told me.”
“What did she tell you?”
“About her mom. Your wife. She said it’s pretty close to the anniversary of her passing, so things have been a little rough.”
Bailey hadn’t told me she’d felt like things had been rough. Poor, sweet Bailey had been having trouble? How had I not known?
“I…she didn’t say anything to me.”
Kinsley just shrugged. She smiled at me, and there was no judgment there. She wasn’t bothered that we were talking about another woman, and she wasn’t bothered that we were talking about someone I had deeply loved.