Chapter 16

Christian

I tap my foot incessantly, drumming against the tiled floor of Steaming Mugs. I’m quickly realizing I might need more than caffeine to endure this impromptu meeting with Dana, early on a Saturday morning. The time doesn’t bother me. It’s that I left Hailey’s warm body in her bed, only to wait for my tardy stepsister.

Yesterday, Hailey and I were together with Addison almost nonstop. I don’t know quite what to make of that, but I know it made for a wonderful day.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” a passing waiter asks.

I shake my head, my eyes darting once more to the entrance. Dana’s request for advice was cryptic, but her lack of punctuality is entirely familiar. The minutes tick by. I have so many things to do, and sitting here is not among them. Family or not, time’s still valuable.

But perhaps there’s a real issue. It’s not like Dana to be so vague. Usually, she’s straightforward, sometimes painfully so. What could she possibly need that I could help with? I hope it’s not her love life. That’s where I draw the line. I’ve navigated enough romantic quagmires of my own to know I’m not going to be much help. Maybe Dana could offer some advice about how to navigate things with Hailey… No . Scratch that. She’d put me on blast before I even had the question out of my mouth.

Come on, Dana … I check my watch for what must be the twentieth time. Her tardiness has stretched beyond acceptable limits. I take the last few sips of my espresso and prepare to leave. Something must have come up for her.

But then the door to Steaming Mugs opens and Dana rushes in. She offers a sheepish grin. “I’m so sorry,” she says, but the apology is cut short by my impatience.

“Twenty minutes, Dana,” I chide, folding my arms over my chest. “You could have at least texted.”

She shrugs off my reproach with an ease that grates on me. “Since when are you Mr. Punctuality? Got your panties in a wad about something?”

“Never too busy to notice time wasted,” I mutter as she saunters to the counter. The barista takes her order for a cappuccino, and she glances back at me with eyes that say lighten up . I roll mine in response.

She comes to sit across from me and sips the frothy top of her drink, peering over the brim of her cup.

“So, how’s it going with Hailey?” Dana asks.

I soften, but in the same moment, my guard goes up. What does Dana know? Has Hailey told her something? “It’s good, mostly. Just wish she’d stick to a schedule more.”

“Does Addison miss her doctor or therapy appointments?”

I shake my head. “Not that I know of.”

“See? She’s doing great,” Dana counters. “Addison loves her, and patience isn’t exactly your strong suit, so you need her. You’ll just have to get over yourself.”

“Maybe.” I concede. “But structure has its place too.”

Dana smirks, lifting her cappuccino. “Spoken like a true control freak.”

I can’t argue with that. I’ve always liked having things just so. But Hailey, with her gentle resistance, challenges that every day. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all.

Dana’s eyes narrow. “So Hailey’s working out. Was I right?”

I shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable again. “She’s good with Addison. You called that from the start.”

“That’s why you bought her a new car?”

“I hated the minivan, and the Range Rover is significantly safer.”

“That sounds dangerously close to thinking about someone other than yourself. I told you to keep your grubby mitts off her, remember? Hailey is a beautiful person, inside and out, and she’s had enough troubles. If you add to them, I’ll make your life miserable.”

I try to brush that off, but Dana’s stare doesn’t waver. Finally, I sigh, running a hand through my hair, and opt for my rote answer. “You have nothing to worry about. I don’t do relationships, and Hailey… She deserves more than I can give her.” I wonder again, Does she know something? My guilty conscience sparks to life.

Dana leans back in her chair, arms crossed, her expression softening a little. “Then make sure you don’t mess with her head.”

I lean back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest. “All right, you’ve said your piece. Is this why you wanted the meeting? Just wanted to give me a refresh on your views about my life?”

She grins, a twinkle in her eye. “Nope.” She pops her P. “I want to plan an anniversary party for Mom and John.”

“Is that all?” I ask, skeptical yet also relieved. “How much money are you after this time?”

Her laugh is light. “Oh, come on. I don’t need your money, Christian. I thought you could help plan it.”

“Plan?” I snort and shake my head, dismissing the idea immediately. “No chance. I’m swamped as it is.”

“Too busy for a twentieth wedding anniversary?” she presses, her eyebrows arching in challenge.

“Fine,” I relent. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll make sure the funds are available.”

“Actually, I was thinking the Boathouse at Stanley Park,” Dana says. “It’s perfect for about forty people.”

“Forty, huh?” I picture the venue in my mind. It’s an excellent restaurant, and the view over the water sparkles at night. I nod despite myself. It’s a fitting place for an anniversary party, and I know they’d love it. “Are you making it a surprise?”

“It would be hard to get my mom dressed the way she’d want to be for that kind of party, so I think we’re better off telling them.”

“Sounds good. And make sure there’s enough cake to go around.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table as I scrutinize Dana’s hopeful expression. “So, do you think twenty grand will cover it?”

Dana’s eyes widen, and she sputters into her coffee, coughing as she sets her cup down with a clatter. “Twenty thousand? This isn’t a royal banquet we’re talking about. It’s just going to be family and friends, nice and low key.” She wipes a drop of coffee from her chin, still looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Whatever doesn’t go into the party, I was hoping we could use to send them to Hawaii. You know, a second honeymoon?”

My father married Dana’s mother when Dana was three years old, and, if memory serves, they went camping on Vancouver Island for a few days after the ceremony. This would be a nice thing to do.

I nod, noting the earnestness in her gaze. “Okay,” I say softly. “I’ll send over a credit card in your name. Keep it reasonable, but make sure they have something special to remember.”

Before I can offer my hand for a handshake, Dana lunges across the table and wraps me in an unexpected hug. I stiffen for a moment before I pat her back. Public displays of affection aren’t really my thing. But Dana wears her heart on her sleeve.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, pulling back with a bright smile, her eyes misty.

“Sure,” I mutter, trying to shake off the lingering embarrassment. “Just make sure they have a good time, okay?”

“Absolutely,” she promises. “But you’ll be there, won’t you?”

“Depends on when it is and my hospital schedule.” I settle back into my chair. Dana’s eyes are on the clock again, and I catch a flicker of something—anticipation? Nervousness?

“I can plan around it,” Dana assures me. “I know they’ll want Addison there too.”

I nod. “Check with Joanne in my office, and she’ll know my schedule.”

“Great.” She takes a sip of her drink and looks at me.

“Got plans after this?” I ask, mostly to fill the silence. Dana and I have never had a lot in common.

She glances at me, a secretive smile playing on her lips. “Actually, I’ve got a date.”

“Really?” My eyebrows rise. “First date?”

She puts her cup down. “Fourth.”

“Where’d you meet him?”

“Ummm…online,” she answers, shrugging as if it’s the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Be careful, okay?” The protective edge in my voice surprises even me. “You can never be too sure about people you meet there.”

“Always am,” she assures me, but the tilt of her head suggests she appreciates the concern. With that, Dana shoves her chair back and rises, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

She steps around the table, and I stand, bracing for another hug. This time, though, it’s a brief squeeze, her energy already shifting toward whatever comes next. “Remember,” she says, pulling back to look me in the eye, her expression stern in a way that reminds me of my mother. “Keep your mitts off Hailey. She’s my friend first, and she’s way too nice for you. She’s off-limits.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I lie smoothly, and she narrows her eyes. Does she know something?

But then she pats my arm. “Good.” She turns on her heel and heads for the door, leaving me to consider her warning.

I watch her disappear into the street crowd, always moving forward, whether it’s planning parties or navigating the treacherous waters of online dating. Her resilience is something I admire, even if I don’t always understand it.

Left alone, I linger over the dregs of my espresso. I should leave, but something about the empty chair across from me, still holding the impression of Dana’s presence, keeps me rooted. My thoughts drift to family ties that bind and shape us.

My father, with his second chance at love, managed to find happiness with a woman who wasn’t my mother. Their relationship, steadfast and unpretentious, has always seemed to me like an unattainable benchmark. Meanwhile, my own mother never settled down again, following their divorce. She danced through suitors with grace but never clung to any one of them. I can still hear her laughter when I once—half in jest, half in curiosity—asked if she’d ever consider remarrying. “ Oh ,” she had said, “ I have you. And as for the rest, I don’t need a man to take care of me .”

It’s strange now, how those words echo in the quiet corners of my mind as I consider my own path. Will I ever marry? The question feels alien yet necessary, rolling around in my head. Commitment of that magnitude seems almost antithetical to who I am—a man more comfortable with fleeting connections than binding vows.

But since Hailey has been part of my life, I’ve felt different. It’s like I don’t even know myself, and I’m thinking about things that never seemed remotely appealing. Every time I see Hailey with Addison, or when she smiles like she trusts me, I feel something I can’t explain. The pull of something more. What is that? But it’s not the same as wanting marriage. I still find it strange to consider making someone more than a fleeting presence in my life. Hailey is off to Europe in less than a year.

I suspect marriage might be a societal expectation I’m not cut out for. Unlike my father, or even Dana, with her relentless optimism about love, I don’t feel that pull.

I glance at the clock. I need to get going. Time slips by when you’re wrestling with the notion of your future—or lack thereof. I pocket the nagging doubts about tradition and bloodlines. After all, DNA doesn’t dictate destiny, and given my parents, things could go either way.

Though I could barely drag myself away from Hailey this morning, I’ve avoided coming home all day, opting instead to catch up on charts at the hospital. Dana got in my head when I met her this morning. She had me second guessing every step I’ve taken with Hailey, so I needed time to think.

When I finally get home, I push the door open to the quiet, the scent of vanilla and something citrus lingering in the air. I toe off my shoes and hang my jacket on the rack by the door, my thoughts about how to handle Hailey still echoing in my mind.

“Hello,” I say softly, careful not to disturb the peace as I enter the living room. Hailey looks up from her laptop, a tangle of notes spread out before her on the coffee table. Her brow is furrowed with concentration, but at the sound of my voice, the tension eases from her face.

“Hi.” She greets me with a smile. “Addison just crashed an hour ago.” Her eyes flick back to her screen. “Got this project I’m working on, but I can still keep an eye on her.”

The offer is considerate, but I’m surprised to find leaving is the last thing on my mind. The idea of spending the evening alone, wrestling with my thoughts—or even trying to drown them in someone without attachments—doesn’t appeal to me. Not anymore. Not when there’s a better option right here, not just my daughter, but Hailey too.

“Actually, I was thinking of staying in tonight,” I tell her, shuffling closer to where she sits. “Maybe we could Netflix and chill?”

Her fingers pause over the keyboard, and she raises an eyebrow. “You do know that ‘Netflix and chill’ means have sex, right?”

“I’m aware,” I reply, a sly grin spreading across my face. The air between us crackles.

Hailey closes her laptop and turns to face me, her smirk now blossoming into a full-blown smile. “Well, in that case, I’d be up for that.”

“Great,” I say, eager to see where the night leads us. We settle on the couch, and I wonder if maybe life has its own path in mind for me. Maybe I need to spend less time analyzing and more just seeing what happens, doing what seems right in the moment. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, relief flooding through me. Hailey seems up for that approach, and my pulse quickens.

“Let’s do it then.” I pull her gently toward me. Tonight, I’m going to deliver. Whatever she wants, whatever she needs, I’m here for it all. And as our eyes lock, I see the same hunger reflected back at me, a silent promise that yes, she can indeed keep up.