Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Isla tsks me. “Rowan Bishop.” My name is said with all the disappointment in the world.
But a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. “Besides, don’t you like Matilda?” I ask Mia. I sure hope she does. Just the other week, I suffered through the five minutes it took to help hang the baker’s dozen’s worth of ornaments Matilda holds.
“Of course I like Matilda, Dad,” Mia says, and it sounds like there’s a touch of placating. “But a big, fluffy, tall one for the living room would be so fun.” She pauses, and in the quiet, I hunt for some sort of suitable explanation for why I still don’t want one. Your mom broke my heart on Christmas doesn’t really cut it. But I don’t need to say a word since Mia’s scanning from Isla to me, seeming to assess the situation, then she declares, “But since you didn’t get a tree, I take it this means we’re going to open today’s Advent calendar now. Because, if you think about it, Isla should be a part of it. She helped me plan it. She’s my lawyer, you know.”
“Mia, you’re nine. You don’t need a lawyer.”
“I did though. She defended my read-every-night rights,” Mia says with a proud lift of her chin as Isla pulls away from the school.
This kid keeps me on my toes. But my job requires quick reflexes, so I use them. “It’s a school day. Don’t you have homework?”
Mia smiles like an angel. “I did all my homework at school already. It’s like this was meant to be! And it really feels super fair that Isla does our Advent calendar with us,” Mia says, trying again to make her case. It’s admirable, but I’ve got a surefire way to end this convo. I don’t know that all this time spent together is a good idea. I don’t want Mia to get too comfortable with the idea of Isla being around. That’s playing with fire.
“Love that idea. But I’m sure Isla has things to do at home,” I say, then glance Isla’s way. “Like devise new ways to torture me.”
“Yes, that’s it. I planned to go home to my little underground cave and plot all sorts of dark ways to make your life difficult,” she says, turning onto the road that’ll take us back to my house.
Mia leans against my seat, then chimes in once more. “That doesn’t sound fun, Isla. I think it’d be more enjoyable if we go to the library and donate books.”
I blink, a little confused. “Wait. I thought you wanted books for yourself for the calendar. Now you want to donate them?”
“I want both! My teacher told us about a program the library started—well, Josie started it,” she says, and Josie’s a librarian married to one of my teammates. “And the friends of the library are collecting gently used Christmas books, or really any books. Then they’re selling them for a Christmas fundraiser. I figured I could donate some of my old books, since I’m getting new ones.”
“Sounds like a plan. After Isla drops us off, we can do that.”
“Yay,” Mia says.
Isla just smirks from the driver’s seat, stifling a laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I ask her.
“She has your number, Rowan. She really does,” Isla says.
I can’t argue with her there.
Mia laughs, then says, “Dad! Don’t be silly. Isla doesn’t need to drop us off. I invited her to come along. She’s our friend. Isla, wanna come? I know how much you love books too.”
Ah, that’s reassuring from Mia—the use of the word friend. I’m grateful that’s how Mia sees Isla. But even so, I don’t want Isla to feel obligated. “Isla was only doing us a favor by picking you up—”
“I would love to go,” Isla says brightly, sounding like sunshine itself.
It’s not that I don’t believe her. It’s that I don’t trust…well, most people. Experience and all. “You would?”
“Of course.”
It’s said sweetly and for a second, or maybe several, my mind dangerously wanders a few steps ahead, picturing us all hanging out together. Stopping at a coffee shop after school. Going to the library. Walking Wanda.
Shit. Now I’m the one daydreaming. And I really shouldn’t like the idea of spending time with Isla so much. She’s my best friend’s sister. My matchmaker. A believer in love. But I say yes anyway. Mia wants her with us as a friend. I’m doing this for my kid.
There’s one little issue. I have no idea how long our adventure will be, and after Isla went to all that effort at the farm, I don’t want her tree to die. “But we should…” I begin, then pause because I can’t believe I’m about to say this to Isla, I truly can’t. “Get your tree home and put it in water.”
She flashes a warm smile my way, then turns her attention back to the road. “That would be great. I’d love help bringing it inside, now that we both know you can lift trees,” Isla says, then glances in the rearview mirror and winks at Mia.