Page 81 of Love Deep

“Riley,” I say. “Mind your manners.”

“Snacks are important,” Fisher says. He pulls out a smaller bag from the duffle. It’s stacked with candy, marshmallows, chips—everything Riley and all other eight-year-olds love.

I shake my head. I don’t think she’ll sleep for a week just from being in close proximity to that many snacks.

Fisher slides the snack bag onto the counter and I pull out the popcorn machine. Riley collects the popping corn from the cupboard. I then set to work on melting some butter while Riley and Fisher figure out the popcorn.

I steal glances at them from where I’m cutting off a chunk of butter. They’re cute together. Fisher doesn’t try to dominate the situation. He feigns ignorance at all the appropriate times and encourages her every step of the way. I sigh and think that if anyone was looking at the three of us now, they’d think this was a pretty perfect family.

Except we’re not a family and Fisher is leaving soon.

Too soon.

“That crunchy chocolate is Mom’s favorite,” Riley says as she pours the melted butter over the gigantic bowl of popcorn. “We have to save that one for her.”

“Which one?” Fisher asks, shooting me a glance.

“The blue one. The one that’s got cereal in the chocolate.”

“Oh, that’s a good one. But you’re right, we should save that one for your mom.”

“Right. Because we have the rest. And the popcorn.”

Fisher laughs. “Right.”

“Did we decide on a movie?” I ask.

Riley glances at Fisher. “I really like Disney movies. Is that too babyish for you?”

“Babyish?” he asks. “Movies aren’t for babies. And doyou know that Disney makes those movies so adults will like them too?”

“Really?” Riley asks.

“Really. What one were you thinking?”

She glances at me. “I was thinkingBrave. Would that be good?”

I nod encouragingly. “I think that sounds perfect.”

I find the movie, Riley and Fisher grab the snacks, along with water for everyone, and we all head to the couch.

“Mommy, we need a blanket,” Riley says.

“I’m on it,” I say, and head to my bedroom to get the one from my bed.

When I come back, Riley and Fisher have arranged themselves so Riley’s in the middle, Fisher is on one side, and there’s a space for me on the other side of Riley. They look so comfortable together, like hanging out like this is something we do every Sunday.

“Blanket is ready. Should I get two?” I ask.

“No, it’s better if we all huddle under one,” Riley says. “It’s cozier.”

I can’t help but think that my daughter is trying to create a family out of the three of us. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. We were going to end up watching a movie, even if Fisher wasn’t here.

But heishere.

I take a seat next to Riley, and I can feel Fisher watching me. It’s strange having him here with me and my daughter together. And at the same time, it’s entirely comfortable.

Fisher’s resting his arm on the back of the couch, and he reaches out his hand like I should hold it. I lean back, resting my head in his palm, wanting the connection but unable to hold hands with him in front of Riley. We’realready at complicated. We don’t need to shoot straight past it.