Tumble (Dogwood Lane 1)

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Wanna know why?”

“I’d love to know why,” I say, twisting around to face her.

“I know she’ll come home.”

“She isn’t a puppy, Mia. And I do love your optimism, but I really want you to understand that she’s not coming back.” I stand up. “I know it’s hard to accept that. It’s hard for me too. But we have to.”

“She won’t come back with that attitude.” Haley’s voice rings out behind me.

Mia giggles as I roll my eyes and turn to face our nanny.

“Please, Haley, join our conversation,” I mutter.

“I don’t mind if I do.” She trots over to the bed and sits by Mia. “Just so you know, I agree with the kid.”

“Because you are a kid,” I say.

“No. Because I told you, this is the perfect moment for you to go find the girl.” She clutches her chest and looks at Mia. “Every good love story has a moment that makes you swoon.”

Mia wrinkles her nose. “I just want Neely back.”

“How do we do that?” Haley asks. “What do we need to do?”

“Face reality,” I tell them, getting annoyed. “We can’t make her come back.”

“No, but we can try to persuade her to.” Haley kisses my daughter on the top of her head and then stands. “Do you love her?” she asks me.

“Yes.”

“Do you want her to come back?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel like your life will never be the same if she doesn’t?”

“Yes.” I sigh.

“Then go get the damn girl. At least try. Have you ever even tried before?”

It’s the last question that sparks something deep inside me. It’s the question that resonates through my mind, plants a seed that maybe, just maybe, Haley and her antics are onto something.

“Just try, Dad. If she doesn’t come back, at least we know you tried.” Mia waits for me to respond. “Try for me.”

I feel my resignation waning. It slips through my fingers despite how hard I try to keep a grip on it.

What can it hurt? All she can do is say no.

“Is your schedule clear for a few days?” I ask Haley.

Mia jumps to her feet on her bed and cheers. Haley picks her up, and they do a little dance around the room, making me laugh. But when they dance over to me and I wrap my arms around the two crazy girls, I think they might be onto something.

“I’m going to check flights,” I say, a bubble of panic erupting in my core. “What else do I need?”

“Give me your credit card, and I’ll take care of the logistics,” Haley says, setting Mia on the bed. “You go pack your stuff and figure out what award-winning speech you’re going to use to win her back.”

“My wallet is in the kitchen,” I call out over my shoulder. “It’ll take me an hour and a half to get to the airport.”

“Go, Dad, go!” Mia shouts.

This is probably a ridiculous idea. But as I grab my travel bag out of the closet and imagine seeing Neely on her turf, I realize that, ridiculous or not, this has to happen.

She’s family, whether she knows it or not.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

NEELY

Another night of no sleep. Another morning of perfectly frustrating coffee. Another day of keeping my phone in my hand just in case Dane calls.

He won’t. There’s no chance and I don’t blame him.

The thing I love about him most, something I was able to identify somewhere between the thirtieth and fiftieth siren last night, is how much he loves Mia. Everything he does centers around her. How many men do that? Not many.

That being said, I hit him right where it hurt. Whether I meant to doesn’t matter. His greatest fear was having someone come into their lives and leave, and I did that. I didn’t even tell Frank to let me think about it. I didn’t even ask for a couple of weeks to help break the news to Mia. I just left, and that’s really what’s keeping me up at night, not the sirens.

When I looked in the mirror this morning and put on a coat of lipstick for my meeting with Frank, I hardly recognized myself. My dress was one I’ve worn before, and the lipstick was my daily go-to just a few weeks ago. But when I look at my reflection, all I see is a person I don’t know.

When did I become the person who’s so hedonistic I just run off on a whim? I spout off all these mantras, say all this stuff about empowering others, when in reality, I’m just as focused on myself as anyone else.

At least that’s how it is here. That’s how I am here. As I push open the doors to my old company and take the elevator to the twentieth floor, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to flip a switch back to the old me. The one who’s up before dawn, champing at the bit to get here. The one who’s still here after dark, finishing projects that could wait until the next day.