Page 76 of The Love Dose

“If I’m honest, I never really considered having kids of my own. But if you’re okay with it, maybe I can try?—”

If I was sitting, I’d be on the edge of my seat. “Try . . .?” I egg her on.

“To be, um, aunt-like.” Her gaze remains downward and I realize I’m once again witnessing Caroline’s uncommon vulnerability.

She must think my silence is skepticism because she adds, “You know, I could be the lady who takes Chacha out for ice cream . . . or helps him with homework . . . or teaches him to make blueberry muffins.”

I’m flabbergasted. My heart sings.

Finally, she meets my eye.

“Muffins?” I say with a grin, and perhaps with a bit of incredulity.

Her lips turn skyward, amusement crossing her lovely features. “A lot has changed since I’ve seen you last.”

She pulls something from her purse and hands it to me. It’s a blue and white pillow embroidered with the words,Super Dad.“I made it.”

I turn it over, admiring it like a work of art. Which it is, to me. “I love it,” I say, suddenly choked up. It’s my turn to look away. “When did you take up needlepoint?”

“Aunt Pearl got me hooked.”

There’s a pregnant pause. The silence seems to be the thing that wakes Chacha. Through the door, I watch my boy open his eyes, squirm, and let out a yawn worthy of a tired lion on the prairie. His gaze meets mine and I can tell in an instant that he is both exhausted and ornery.

“Excuse me a moment,” I say to Caroline and go inside. I scoop Chacha into my arms and carry him to bed. He’ll have a nice nap and be raring to go when he wakes up.

Caroline isn’t where I left her. She’s pacing the living room.

“Where were we?” I say.

“I don’t have any way to prove I can be a good aunt. I have zero experience other than my interactions with Evie and Sam’s kids. I can provide them as references.”

I hold back a laugh. She’s not joking. “Is this an interview?”

She shrugs. There are wrinkles between her brows I’ve never seen before. “I don’t know how else to do . . . this.” She gestures to the space between us.

She looks fearful, anxious. Adorable.

My pulse skips a beat. “What is it exactly that you’re trying to do?”

I need her to say it.

“Find a way we can be together, to be back in each other’s lives, as much as you—and Chacha—will allow.”

A warm flutter rises in my chest. “As friends?” I prod.

She shakes her head. “I’ve had months to think about it and I agree with what you said back then. I can’t go back to being only friends.”

I move toward her and she stops pacing. “You can’t?” I whisper.

She shakes her head, a tear escaping. “I’m scared.”

I reach for her damp cheek. “Of what, my love?”

“That I won’t be good enough for Chacha.”

She’s serious. The only antidote is to lighten things up. “How about me? I’m old enough to be his grandpa.”

She laughs, her eyes brimming with new tears. “And I’m old enough to be his nana.”