Page 95 of Accidental Blind Date

The question is phrased a little funny, but I know what she is trying to ask. “I think so,” I tell her, my words strangled in my throat as I try to hold myself together.

“Good. Because I love mommy. But I really like Miss Libby too. I just don’t want to break any rules.”

I run my hand down the blonde braid that hits the middle of her back. She’s way too grown up for a seven-year-old and it breaks my heart.

“I don’t think there are any rules when it comes to love,” I say, and for now, that seems to be a good enough answer.

On my way to the office, I switch mental hats. I do my best not to frown around the girls because for a while, after their mom died, that was a whole thing.

“Daddy is always sad,” they would say. “Daddy forgot how to smile…”

Forgot how to smile. Forgot how to laugh. Forgot how to eat, sleep, breath,function.It’s the aftermath of it all that is practically life threatening in itself. Because when the person you love more than life is ripped from your world, you die inside too. But your body is still here, and you have to keep living. Especially when you become a single parent. You have to keep living. For them, you have no choice but to keep on living.

Sometimes it's hard to forget your shortcomings though, especially when you are constantly reminded of them. Jenna wasn’t happy when I called her from the airport. I knew she wouldn’t be. It’s not that my late wife’s sister doesn’t love her nieces. She adores them. But she likes to remind me constantly how absent I am. How selfish I am. How much the girls are missing since Tess died. I’m sure it’s the default of her own heartache. But all that pain needs an outlet, somewhere to throw it, sharp blades, and all. And unfortunately, I’ve become the target.

“The girls missed you so much while you were on vacation,” she told me over the phone during mine and Libby’s layover. “I visited them several times while they were with Mom and Dad and all they talked about was missing you.”

If I had to guess, this is the way the conversation actually went…

“Are you having fun with Nana and Grampy?”

“Yes!”

“Do you miss your daddy though?”

“Yes.”

“He’s very far away.”

“How far?”

“Very, very far.”

“Oh…”

That’s the kind of sister-in-law Jenna is and that’s what I’ve been dealing with since my wife’s funeral. My frown deepens as I think about it. As I replay the phone conversation over in my head, one line in particular.

“Of course I’ll take them. It’s not like I can say no. Sometimes I wonder if they’re with me more than they are with you though.”

They’re not, of course. But something about the way Jenna phrased it made my stomach turn. And I can’t help but feel like a storm is coming.

The sound of my phone ringing fills the car speakers and breaks through my thoughts.

Libby.

As soon as I see her name, I smile.

“Hey beautiful,” I answer.

“Hey yourself. How’s your morning going?”

“Chaotic,” I laugh. And it’s a real laugh. Because that’s what Libby does to me. It’s who she is.

“I bet. How are the girls?”

“Also, chaotic. But good. Poppy went to school in a fairy costume because there are too many hills to die on for me to choose from and I don’t have enough caffeine in my life. And because that’s only the tip of the iceberg today.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see them again,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. I can also hear that she is buzzing around the bookshop and the very image of it makes me smile even more.