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“Fail!” Reese called out like a referee while the girls shrieked with laughter.

“Thanks for the support!” I said, laughing.

“Mom,” Emma said, “you should really stop trying to do that. You’re not getting much better at it.”

I gasped. “Excuse me! That one was halfway there!”

Reese stood and handed me the rag while I squeezed Emma’s face with the other hand and pecked her on the cheek, then Macy too, who was still howling at the big mess I’d made.

“Here, let me take over,” Reese said, taking the pan from me while I cleaned the batter off the floor.

Reese had shown up this morning with berries and a carton of whipped cream, begging forgiveness for bailing on me last night.

“I’m here to spend all day with my favorite girls,” she said. “If you’ll accept my apology for last night. I hope you had enough time to cancel your babysitter?”

“No,” I said as I let her in. “But I made the most of it. I went out anyway.”

Her eyebrows had shot straight up, but Emma and Macy had come bounding down the stairs at just that moment and we got into pancake making instead.

Thank god Reese had shown up. Not just for the fun company but because maybe then I might be able to go at least five minutes without thinking about Will and last night.

I’d tossed and turned in my bed all night, replaying the evening in my mind. The way he’d rescued me from the ditch. How I’d accidentally, literally, thrown myself on him and how he’d felt against me.

It was like meeting him again at that park had lit up a dormant coal inside of me, and last night had brought it to a flame.

It was dangerous, and I didn’t particularly like it.

But it wasn’t just everything that had happened between us keeping me awake. It was what he’d said.

Does the blog make you happy?

Of course it did. I’d said that last night. So why was I still chewing on that when I woke up? I was sick of it. So when Reese showed up, I’d been deeply relieved. And I’d decided to make a big, messy morning of it, even if I’d have to clean it all up after. Anything. Anything to distract from last night and Will Archer.

Reese wasn’t a bad cook herself. While she chatted away with the girls, she turned the rest of the batter into gorgeous, perfectly browned, pancakes. I turned some frozen berries into a quick compote and whipped the cream. Then, of course, I took some photos—this would make good blog material.

After we ate, I made the girls take their dishes to the sink and told them if they got dressed and brushed their teeth on their own they could watch some cartoons, then I promised we could make a snowman later. I knew Reese wouldn’t let me get away without talking about what had happened last night, and I didn’t want the girls around to hear about it.

“I’ll wash,” Reese said.

I didn’t bother arguing, just picked up a towel and started drying.

“So,” my sister said, once her hands were immersed in water. “I thought for sure you were going to be upset about last night.”

“I can’t get mad at you for getting called into work.”

“So, you went to the coffee house on your own?”

I didn’t say anything, just picked up a plate and rubbed it dry with the towel.

“Michelle Franco!” Reese exclaimed, propping her dripping hands on her hips.

“I ended up going out with Will, okay?”

My big sister gasped.

I’d told her about running into Will again in the car on the way home from Emma’s appointment but hadn’t mentioned him offering his daughter’s number for babysitting. Or thatthatwas who I’d called last night. While she freaked out on me, I explained everything, emphasizing several times how it wasn’t a date.

But she was rolling her eyes by the time I finished. “Michelle. It sounds like a date.”