“Well, I like her,” says Meghan, nestling against my shoulder. “You can marry her if you want.”
“Hold up, Megs,” says Gilly, furrowing her eyebrows. “She seems nice, but—”
“We don’t need a new mom!” says Chad. He looks up at me and for the first time I can see that his eyes are full of tears. He swipes at them, then looks back at the firepit. “We’re good without her. We don’t want—I mean…we’ve got Aunt Bonnie. And I can help more, Dad. If you need me to cook more or help clean, I can do that. We don’t need someone else to—”
“Son,” I say, reaching over to put my arm around his shoulders, and gesturing for Gilly to come sit on my other side. “Guys, listen up, okay? Amanda’s just a friend. Just a new friend. She’s not even from Alaska. She’s just visiting.”
“Good,” Chad says, his voice shaky as he kicks at the dirt with his sneaker.
I didn’t see this coming. I mean, I guess I should have, since Amanda is the first woman, since their mother, in whom I’ve been remotely interested. They’re picking up on that and it’s upsetting them, and damn, but after everything they’ve been through, they don’t need more stress.
“Someday,” I say gently, “I might meet someone, date her for a few years, get closer to her, and sure, I might get married again. But someday. Not now. Not tomorrow. And not to Amanda. She’s…she’s just a friend.”
“You don’t kiss your friends on the lips,” Chad points out.
“That’s true,” I say. “You’re right. She’s…um, well, yes. She’s more than a friend. But she’s a long, long way from a fiancé. I wouldn’t even call her my girlfriend.”
“You kiss ladies who aren’t your girlfriend?” asks Gilly, staring up at me with wide eyes.
“N-No. I mean, well, I’m getting to know Miss Amanda, and we’re…well, we like each other, so we’re sort of dating right now. Going on dates. And when you go on dates with someone, sometimes you kiss them. Not that you should kiss anyone, Gilly, dates or no dates. You’re too young for kissing. Got it?”
Gillian giggles and that’s when I realize she’s getting a kick of out of having me on the ropes, the little demon. “Oh, daddy.
You’re adorable.”
“I wish I could say the same about you!” I say, pretending to be offended as I squeeze her shoulder with affection. “So, are we okay? Any more questions?”
They shake their heads no and they look reassured, but as I head back inside to help Bonnie, I can’t help thinking that there are layers to my dating Amanda—or any woman—that I hadn’t really anticipated. What if my kids don’t like the woman I choose? What if I like her, but she doesn’t mesh with my family? It could get really complicated really quickly.
Luckily, however, dinner goes off without a hitch, and a few hours later, my kids, full of burgers and s’mores, are half-asleep in front of my sister’s TV. I offer to walk Amanda home and promise Bonnie I’ll return for them in an hour.
“Don’t rush,” whispers my sister. “They can stay over if you run late. Have fun!”
My sister and Amanda had a great time together tonight, laughing and talking over dinner. And later, over the campfire, Amanda joined us in singing some of our favorite camp songs, which she, apparently, learned at a summer camp she attended in Pennsylvania.
As we roasted marshmallows, Meghan climbed into Amanda’s lap. Without missing a beat, Amanda wrapped her arms around my youngest, giggling as they sang an off tune, but enthusiastic, version of “John Jacob Jingle Heimer Schmidt.”
Part of me loved seeing them together.
But part of me knows it’s not a good idea. I don’t want for Meghan to become attached. I don’t want her to get hurt when Amanda heads home.
“You have an amazing family,” says Amanda, as we step down my sister’s porch stairs and turn left onto the sidewalk that leads back to town. “Your sister’s great. Your kids are…phenomenal.”
“Thanks. They all like you.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “Bonnie, Ted and Meg like me. I don’t know about Chad and Gilly.”
“Gilly wants to like you,” I say. “Chad…well, he’s protective of his mom’s spot.”
“They don’t think that I’m trying to—”
“No!” I say. “No. They know you’re just visiting. But, he…well, I didn’t realize it before tonight, but Chad’s not crazy about me dating again.”
“He remembers Wendy the best,” she says gently. “He had her the longest.”
“Yes,” I say, steering our walk to a road that runs alongside the harbor. The sun’s almost down, but we might catch a glimpse of seals or whales in the dying light over the water. “I think that’s part of it.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes, her flip flops crunching along the pebbles on the sidewalk. “Is this getting complicated?”