Page 61 of Falling For You

"Thanks, Doug."

Burns gave me a new partner the same week. Jeremy Murray, transferring in from Northeast Area Command. Young, mid-twenties, clean uniform, an eagerness in his posture that said he was ready to prove himself.

"What made you transfer to this command?" I asked, walking him through the bullpen.

"My father worked out of this precinct. He was killed in the line of duty when I was twelve." His hand went to the notebook in his chest pocket. I recognized the gesture. I wore my father's watch every shift. Jeremy carried something of his father's too.

"I'm sorry about your father."

"Thank you. I became a cop because of him. I wanted to serve where he served."

"Then let's make him proud."

He smiled and nodded.

Christmas was close. The block had lights in every window and Birdie had taped paper snowflakes to every surface she could reach. Wyatt's living room had a tree in the corner with ornaments she'd painted herself.

Dinner was spaghetti. Barb was out with friends for the evening, so it was just the three of us at the kitchen table. Birdie was telling us about a science experiment gone wrong when she stopped mid-sentence and looked up.

"Suzie said I can come to her house for Christmas!"

"For Christmas?" Wyatt said.

"Her mom is doing a dinner and Suzie said I can come. Can I go, Daddy? Please?"

"I'll talk to Suzie's mom."

"And Andy can come too." She looked straight at me. "Right, Andy? You can come be my mommy?"

The kitchen went still.

I looked at Wyatt. His fork was frozen halfway to his mouth. His hand found mine under the table and squeezed.

"Only if you want to," he said quietly.

"I'd love to."

Birdie's face split into a grin so wide it knocked the breath out of me. She bounced in her chair and started telling me about what Suzie's mom was making, what Suzie was going to wear, and that they were going to sit next to each other.

Wyatt's eyes were on mine across the table. I said yes to Birdie. I said yes to the dinner, to showing up at another family's table under the word mom.

I said yes to all of it. And I meant it.

But I didn't know what to do with that word yet. Wyatt and I hadn't talked about it. I was his girlfriend. That part I understood. But Birdie calling me her mom—that was different. I didn't grow up with a mother. I lost mine before I was old enough to understand what she was supposed to teach me, so I didn't have a blueprint for this. And even if I did, this was a role that was supposed to be for someone else.

How do you step into that role for someone's daughter without erasing the woman who should have been there?

I didn't have an answer yet.

We went to the Parks' the weekend before Christmas. All three of us, in matching sweaters. It was Birdie's idea. She'd seen it online and decided it was non-negotiable. Wyatt didn't argue. I didn't either. My dad and I never had traditions like that. He bought me books. I made him coffee. And we watched old westerns on the couch. Matching anything wasn't in our vocabulary. But pulling that sweater over my head felt like stepping into something I didn't know I'd been missing.

Birdie insisted on wearing her hair like mine. I did hers in the bathroom mirror. When we got to Suzie's front door, Suzie took one look at Birdie's hair and pulled her mom's sleeve. I ended up in the Parks' bathroom with two six-year-olds on step stools, braiding Suzie's hair to match.

"Now we're twins!" Birdie said.

Mrs. Park leaned against the doorway. "You just made her entire Christmas."

Suzie's parents were wonderful. Her dad shook Wyatt's hand at the door and her mom hugged me like she'd known me for years. Suzie's older brother followed Wyatt around the kitchen asking about the truck and the ladder and whether he'd ever been inside a building that was actually on fire. Birdie and Suzie disappeared with the dog and didn't come up for air until dinner.