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CHAPTER 17

PRACTICALLY PERFECT

CASS

I can’t stop fussing with the canopy over Cricket’s bed.

The opening of peach chiffon won’t center in the full-sized bed and it’s driving me nuts. But the twinkle lights inside are twinkling, and vines dotted with coral roses hang from the wooden hoop, giving a Sleeping Beauty vibe that I’m deadass envious of. Giving up on the canopy, I rearrange the throw pillows on the bed and tug at the corner near the foot to flatten out a wrinkle, chewing on my bottom lip.

The rug matches impeccably. The bookshelf Wilder put together is stuffed with books—some of her favorites that were lost in the fire, thanks to a list from Patty—and some cute little trinkets. Cricket’s sage green dresser is empty, her little desk set up with pencils and crayons and paper and a light. I have nightlights. Pretty art. A mirror. I even framed a photo of her and her mom, giving it a home on her nightstand.

I just want it to be everything for her, a safe, cozy little nest where she can escape. I want to make her comfortable and happy and to earn her trust. I want to help make a space for Cricket and Wilder to get to know each other. I only hope it helps, that it’s enough.

What’s between Wilder and I isn’t real, but this part? This part is so real, it’s scary. It feels like everything hinges on tonight

It marks the beginning of everything.

The thought is so daunting, my stomach twists.

“It’s perfect, Cass,” Wilder says.

I sigh, my eyes still on the room. “I can’t get the canopy to open straight.”

He looks it over, moving to the end of the bed. “It’s only, like, an inch or two off. Nobody’ll know.”

“I’ll know.”

His eyes are warm, the picture of calm. “She’s gonna love it.”

“Aren’t you nervous?”

“Terrified.”

“How come you don’t look it?”

“Years of practice.”

It’s my turn to chuckle, and I relax a little. “It didn’t turn out half bad, did it?”

Wilder scans the room shaking his head in wonder. “I never could have done this on my own, Cass. You thought of everything.” He picks up the picture of Cricket and Ashley, his face touched with some emotion I can’t quite place. Longing, maybe. A far away sadness.

“Did you love her?” I ask quietly.

But he shakes his head again, setting the photo back on her nightstand. My knees nearly buckle when he meets my eyes and says, “I’ve only ever loved you.”

The doorbell rings, breaking the spell, and I imagine him with a soul patch and a fedora while he chases a ping pong ball down a hill, throwing a pair of flippers on his feet for good measure. But then he takes my hand, squeezes it, looks down at me with fear and hope and love and longing and…well, to put it simply, I’m fucked. With that harrowing realization, we head to the living room to welcome his daughter into our home.

I nearly snort at the thought of it. The only thing we share is the bathroom sink, a dresser, and a checkered past. Everything else is his.

The irony of my circumstance is not lost on me.

Paul and Patty are the same exhausted sort of sad they’ve been every time I’ve seen them, though tonight they seem a little relieved, a little lighter. Maybe a little conflicted too. The ritual of the funeral must have given them comfort, hopefully the beginning of closure. Cricket looks around, not leaving the entryway as we all say hello. Her eyes scan the corner of the house where her bedroom is.

Wilder smiles down at her. “Hey, Cricket.”

She’s gripping the ladybug pillow, smiling back without showing her teeth, her eyes sharp, excited. Her backpack sticks out a solid foot from her small frame. “Hey, Wilder. Hi, Cass.”

“Hey, kiddo,” I say, reaching to take her rolling suitcase from Paul. “How about we go put your stuff in your room?—”

“ Okay !” She’s already off and running, her backpack bouncing heavily and braids whipping behind her.

The adults chuckle, but my heart goes all fuzzy and squishy at the sight of her as we follow. Her backpack hits the floor with a thump, and she doesn’t stop running until she launches herself into bed, giggling.

“Nana look!” she says through laughter. “There’s lights!” With that, she springs up and out of bed again, her stray hair staticky and sticking up as she rushes to the bookshelf. Her face breaks open in reverence, her mouth hanging open. “Oh my gosh, there’s so many books.”

I roll her suitcase to the dresser and leave it there, joining her at the bookshelf. “Your nana said you used to have the Magic Treehouse series, so I got them for you. Amelia Bedelia used to be my favorite, plus Freckle Juice , Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing , that kind of thing. Have you read Junie B. Jones?”

She shakes her head, eyes darting across the book spines. Her lips are pinned between her teeth, and I realize there are tears in her eyes. A short stack of Magic Treehouse books is clutched to her chest.

As I take the first book off the shelf to show her, I keep talking. “Well, she’s a funny, silly little girl who’s going to school for the first time and has all kinds of adventures, even though she’s scared.”

Cricket takes the book from my hand and adds it to the stack in her arms as I continue.

“I also picked up A Wrinkle In Time and the rest of the series. It’s a little advanced, but I was wondering if Wilder and I could read it to you at bedtime when you’re here?”

She nods, cheeks flushed, lips still between her teeth. She swallows. Her eyes haven’t left the bookshelf.

“Just let me know if there’s anything I forgot and I’ll get it for you. Okay?”

Cricket loosens her arms so she can look at the books again. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

I glance back at Wilder and her grandparents. Patty is trying to smile, but she looks on the verge of tears. Wilder sees it too.

“Well, why don’t y’all unpack a bit,” he says. “We’ll head in to check on this roast chicken, if you can help me figure it out, Patty. I always overcook it.”

Patty manages a laugh and pats Wilder’s arm. “Sure. Let’s go have a look.”

During their exchange, Cricket set the books back on their shelves and manages to compose herself. I watch her fiddle with a rainbow snow globe before turning the knob on the bottom. “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” tinkles from the little device.

She seems so much older than her six short years. After a moment, she sets it back on the shelf and steps back to look around the room again.

“Like it?” I ask.

When she smiles for real, my relief is bone deep. “It looks like Pinterest.”

I laugh. “And how do you know what Pinterest is?”

She shrugs and says matter-of-factly, “I have a iPad, you know.”

“Of course you do. I’ve been so worried I picked out the wrong things. We’ve been so excited to have you come stay, but we were nervous too.”

Her big, amber eyes find mine. “You were?”

“Sure were. I wanted everything to be perfect. Wilder said it was when he saw me worried, but I didn’t believe him.”

She looks around again, considering. “I think he’s right.”

“He so often is,” I admit with a sigh.

Cricket wanders around, picking things up, inspecting them, and putting them down again. “I didn’t know grownups got nervous too.”

“Sure. Everything you feel, we feel too. It’s just that we’ve felt most of it before, so it’s less scary. Most of the time, at least.” I scoot to her suitcase and lay it down to unzip it. “How are you feeling about school tomorrow?”

Her face quirks as she opens a desk drawer and closes it again. “Kind of scared.”

“Me too. It’s my first day too. Did you know that?”

She shakes her head.

I’m loading her dresser with the neatly folded clothes from her suitcase. They smell of fresh laundry, sweet and crisp. “It’s true. It’s my first time teaching, even though I’ve wanted to do it since I was your age.”

“You knew when you were my age what you wanted to do?”

“Sorta. Mostly people told me I was bossy, so I should teach.”

Cricket rolls her eyes. “Rude.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Right? But the truth is, I always loved reading like you. And I’ve always loved kids. So it ended up making a lot of sense.”

“How come you didn’t teach before?”

Shit. I field it as best I can. “Well…it was never really the right time. But I can’t wait for tomorrow. We’re going to have so much fun.”

“Even though you’re scared?”

“Sure. Because that’s just one little part of it—the rest of it is gonna be awesome. ”

Cricket’s eyes are full of hope and worry. “You promise?”

I don my most certain smile. “Promise.”