Page 52 of The Write Choice

I hide a smile behind my hand. I’ve known Daniel for a long time, so this is no surprise to me.

I clear my throat, trying to get back on track. “Okay. The date jar sounds fun.”

Jenny stands and takes the jar off the counter, then sets it in front of me. “You take it home with you. We all got to add stuff when we started it, so you can add some ideas, too. We’ll come over when you’re ready and draw a date.”

“Yeah,” Mac agrees, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “And, you know, if you wanted to add some ideas to fuck with Brandon, we won’t try to stop you.”

My jaw drops. “Are you telling me you put the cooking class in the jar just to mess with your new husband?”

Mac is the picture of innocence. “I would never.” Her tone turns defensive. “But they put the horseback riding lessons in there to mess with me.”

Jenny pinches her eyebrows together as she sits again. “I put ballroom dancing lessons in there to trip up Ben. Turns out he’s an excellent dancer.”

I look back and forth between the two of them. “So, this is more about fucking with each other than about the dates?”

“It’s about both,” Mac says. “But no one has ever accused us of being mature adults.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agrees. “So, add whatever you want. If it happens to be something that’ll embarrass your husband, we’ll be along for the ride.”

My smile stretches slowly across my face. I think these women and I are going to get along just fine. For as long as I’m here.

Chapter 15

Brandon

Once my parents arrive to watch the kids, I stop to grab a six-pack before heading to Daniel’s. I hesitate in the aisle, wondering if I should be doing this. Katie never had a problem with me having a beer or two with Daniel before, but things might be different now. I decide she’d probably feel worse if she knew I gave this up for her and check out as quickly as I can.

I’m a few minutes late, but I’m still the first one there. Daniel grins as he holds the door open for me to enter.

“I’m glad Katie agreed to have dinner with Mac and Jenny.” He shuts the door behind me and takes the beer out of my hands so I can shed my thick winter coat. I hang it in the hall closet and follow him to the kitchen, where he takes two drinks out of the carrier and puts the rest in the fridge.

“Me too,” I agree. “I overheard her therapist talking about meeting people when she was on a video call the other day.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at me. “You eavesdropped on her therapy appointment?”

“I overheard,” I correct him. He looks at me as if this detail does not matter. I continue a bit defensively, “I can’t help it if Katie has everything at full volume all the time.”

Daniel seems unconvinced, but he grabs a bottle opener and pops the top off the beers. He hands one to me as we make our way to the couch in the living room. We clink our bottles together and take a sip. I don’t have beer often, and I never keep it in the house, so I enjoy it all the more on nights like these. I’m glad I get to share some time with Daniel, too. When he moved out here two years ago to write that damn book I still haven’t finished, he stayed because he fell for Mac. I like that he’s close by again.

“How are Patrick and Maria?” He changes the subject, probably giving me a minute to catch my breath. Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Any word from Shane?”

“Shane called the other day asking for money. No surprise there. Haven’t heard from him since.” I shrug, not willing to spend any more time on that line of conversation. “Mom and Dad weaseled their way over for family dinner on Monday.”

“Wasn’t that the kids’ first day of school here, too?”

I take another sip of my beer. “Yep.”

“How did that go?”

“Well, I got hung up at the office, then I had to pick up something to make for dinner on the way home, so my parents beat me there. Mom insisted on making cookies with the kids before we ate, so I walked into an explosion.”

Daniel narrows his eyes at me. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said.”

“Mom making cookies?” I venture.

“Yes,” he says slowly. He narrows his eyes at me, which is his tell that he’s trying to decide if he should say whatever he wants to say next.

“Are you going to ask me about staying late at the office?” I guess.