Which means I’m guessing my daughter should not participate in this treasure hunt unless I’m ready to have an in-depth discussion of sex toys. All discussions with Beatrice are in-depth. My daughter is like a starved dog after a bone when it comes to acquiring information, especially information I’d rather not share until she’s older.
We survived the puberty discussions—all credit to Savannah—but I’m not ready for the adult novelty products or ehem “self-pleasure” discussion just yet.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, darling,” I say.
“Why not?” Beatrice demands, propping her hands on her hips.
“I need to speak with Savannah immediately,” I tell Cassie. “Do you think—”
“And you couldn’t just call her?” Cassie cuts in.
“Of course not,” Beatrice answers for me. “Like Savannah always says, begging for forgiveness is something that should be done face-to-face. That’s why she made me go over to Mean Molly McKibbon’s to apologize after I put frogs in her dress pockets at the park.” Bea holds up a hand to her mouth as she adds in a faux whisper, “Even though Molly deserved frogs in her pockets because she always cheats at games and cheaters are the worst.”
“They really are.” Cassie nods solemnly, but her eyes are twinkling as she turns back to me. “You didn’t hear this from me, but the first clue leads to the fire station. If you’d like, Beatrice could come home with George and me, then you and Savannah can swing by my place when you’re finished with your discussion. I mean, if that’s okay with you. I’m trustworthy, I promise, and George hasn’t snuck out of the house to dumpster dive in ages.”
The raccoon on the leash nods at me, as though he, too, has read between the lines and agrees that I’ll move quicker if I’m by myself and that navigating a sex toy treasure hunt is something I should do without my daughter’s assistance.
And it’s not like Cassie’s a complete stranger. After all the stories Savannah has shared about her sister, I know her better than most of my own family members.
“That way Beatrice could meet George’s kiddos and our new kitten, Lucifer, who is, I’m pretty sure, the cutest kitten in the entire world.”
“Oh, yes, please, Papa!” Beatrice clasps her hands together at her chest. “I really want to see Savannah, but I don’t want to miss the raccoons or the kitten.”
“All right,” I say, “but be on your best behavior for Cassie.” Glancing up at Cassie, I add, “Thank you so much. I appreciate your help.”
“Of course,” she says, a knowing look in her eyes. “Good luck. I have a feeling you might need it.”
Chapter Two
Savannah Sunderwell,
aka a woman determined to
give love one last chance
There’s nothing like being the first treasure hunter to reach the second clue and getting a giant bear hug from your favorite brother-in-law to banish a bad case of jet lag.
Cassie really won the hubby lottery when she married Ryan.
“Savannah!” He gives me one last squeeze before setting me back on the ground. “Cassie just texted that you were back in town. When did this happen?”
He’s in a Happy Cat Fire Department tee shirt and work pants, and he’s not alone. My nephew, Logan, an adorable, chubby-cheeked toddler with two fingers in his mouth, a fire truck on his shirt, and wide brown eyes, is peeking at me from beside a table holding coolers of punch and stacks of cups for the treasure hunt participants.
My heart squeezes.
I wave at him and smile, but he shrinks back.
My heart aches, but I know his shyness isn’t personal. He just needs to warm up to me again. The last time I saw him, he wasn’t even crawling, and now he’s walking and growing up way too fast. I’m missing all of his little guy years, and I can’t miss watching Logan grow up, because…
Well, because he could be the only baby I ever see grow up.
I don’t want to be envious of my sister and her family—I’m so happy that they have each other—but lately I’ve been forced to come to terms with the fact that I might never have a family of my own.
And it’s not just the challenge of finding a man who loves me and wants to raise a baby together—which is no easy feat in the dating-app-fueled shit show modern courting has become. It’s also the news from my doctor last week that I’ll never be able to carry a baby of my own. My endometriosis has left too much scar tissue behind for my ovaries to function properly. Surrogacy is on the table, but I can’t bear to think about it yet. I’m still mourning the news that my body has betrayed me.
Plus, I’m not ready to become a single mom. I still have dreams of doing the whole family thing the old-fashioned way, with love and marriage before the baby carriage.