Page 141 of The Offside Rule
Isla glanced over her shoulder. “But my lip gloss.”
Taylor held up both hands. “We’ll absolutely talk about lip gloss later.”
Then she slipped toward the front door, pausing only long enough to meet Catherine’s eyes. Catherine gave her the smallest nod. Taylor nodded back and left, closing the door softly behind her. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Catherine crouched slightly so she was closer to Isla’s height, but not in a way that talked down to her. That was Catherine. She had always known how to meet kids where they were without making them feel small. I had seen it when she babysat Isla years ago. I saw it now in the quiet way her face softened without turning fake or overly sweet.
“Sometimes,” Catherine said, “adults can have feelings for each other.”
Isla frowned. “Like mommies and daddies?”
I groaned. Catherine glanced at me, and there was the slightest flicker of amusement in her eyes before she turned back to Isla.
“Yes,” she said calmly. “Usually, people date first. Then sometimes they fall in love. Sometimes they get married. Sometimes they have children. There are lots of different ways families happen.”
“My mommy and daddy weren’t in love.” The words hit like a puck to the ribs. “She only loves me from far away,” she said, quieter now. “So sometimes it feels not real.”
Everything inside me stopped. I had imagined a lot of versions of this conversation over the years. I had never imagined it like this, in my kitchen, with Catherine standing between us and my daughter holding lip gloss while trying to make sense of love that came close and love that stayed distant. I moved toward her, but Catherine looked at me once like she was asking me to wait.
Her voice stayed soft. “I think love can feel confusing when someone isn’t close enough to show it the way you need them to.”
Isla looked up at her.
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t real,” Catherine continued. “And it doesn’t mean the love your dad gives you is less because someone else has trouble showing up.”
My throat tightened. Isla blinked, absorbing that in the serious, quiet way she sometimes did when she was thinking harder than any ten-year-old should have to. Then she looked directly at Catherine.
“Do you love my daddy?”
I stepped forward. “Bug?—”
Catherine lifted one hand, just slightly. How she could be the person caught in the worst possible conversation and somehow still be steadier than I was. She took a breath, and when she answered, she did not look away from Isla.
“I have very deep feelings for your dad,” she said. “And I care about him a lot. We’re still figuring out exactly what that means, but I would like to keep dating him, if that feels okay with you.”
My heart broke open. She had told the truth in a way Isla could understand without promising too much or making herself into something she wasn’t ready to be. She had made room for Isla and for us. Isla’s face lit up so fast I almost had to sit down.
“That’s a great idea,” my daughter beamed.
Catherine blinked. “It is?”
“Yes.” Isla nodded hard. “You already know me, and you know where the blankets are, and Daddy smiles more when you’re here.”
“Isla,” I said.
She looked at me. “What? You do.”
Catherine’s mouth twitched, but her eyes were shiny.
Isla gasped suddenly. “I have to tell Mila.”
“No,” Catherine and I said at the exact same time.
Isla froze halfway through turning toward her room.
Catherine straightened. “We’re sorry. That was too loud.”
Isla walked back into the kitchen and gave us both a very unimpressed look. “You two need to chill.”
I stared at my daughter. Catherine pressed her lips together so tightly I knew she was trying not to laugh.
