Stuck With the Grumpy Single Dad

15. Chapter Fourteen Mabel

Chapter Fourteen: Mabel

M onday morning feels like a weight bearing down on my shoulders. My poor Jetta made it all the way back down to Kennebunk before she gave a cough and a wheeze, then stuttered to a pathetic halt on the side of I-95 on Saturday evening.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for a tow truck to show up, and the guy at the garage told me it’d be an easy fix he could patch up in the morning. But, still. I had to get a hotel, then wait around for a few hours while my dinky yet beloved car was operated on. It was a blessing that the mechanic was willing to do anything for me at all on a Sunday morning.

The point is, I didn’t actually make it back to the Cape until late last night. I didn’t even get a chance to stop and chat with my parents, since Mom was busy at an event and Dad would already be fast asleep by the time I pulled into the driveway .

I don’t know how to describe what’s going through my mind. Shaken is a good word. Confused, too. Horrified and embarrassed also work, but so do fascinated and curious. Suffice it to say, it’s a mixed bag.

The man who is determined to hate me is actually someone I didn’t even think could be hateful in the first place.

Cal…

Why didn’t he just tell me? Why did he have to be so weird and vague about his move to Mermaid Shores? If he told me he was coming, we could’ve coordinated a face-to-face meeting ahead of time. There would've been no need for the ridiculous miscommunication that started it all. We wouldn’t have gotten off on the wrong foot.

I’m having a difficult time wrapping my mind around Matt Morgan being the type of guy who spends significant portions of his time handwriting letters. He just seems so… rugged. And, dare I say it, a little ineloquent. He hasn’t exactly been receptive to my attempts to chat, after all. How on earth is he the same guy who once wrote me ten entire pages simply because he had so much on his mind?

“You okay, Mabel Lee?”

I stare numbly at Joshie for a moment before I fully process his question. I’ve got a tray of sodas balanced in one hand and a fresh pot of coffee in the other. It’s that weird time of day when patrons are ordering both breakfast and lunch, but I’m running on autopilot without missing a beat.

At least, I thought I was.

“Of course, I’m okay.” I force a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Joshie quirks an eyebrow, but doesn’t question me any further as he hurries back into the kitchen. Roy is out today, dealing with some stuff his social worker needs him and Nat to take care of for their pending adoption.

Maybe someday that could be me. Maybe.

Perhaps I should no longer feel so weird about the fact that I revealed my secret infertility to Matt. If he’s Cal, that means he already knows.

Then again, he’d have to know that I’m Maple Leaf in order to put two and two together.

Should I confront him? Should I just tell him outright that I’m the girl he’s been writing to for almost twenty years?

“Mabel Lee, you good?” Vicki asks on her way past me, holding a tray of burger platters aloft with nonchalant grace.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I reply, somewhat tightly. I had meant for the question to come out in a lighthearted way, to suggest that everyone is out of their minds for suggesting that I’m acting different, but instead I sound like I’m accusing Vicki of something.

She gives me an odd look over her shoulder as she carries the burgers to her table.

I deliver the drinks to my table, then top off a few coffees on my way back over to the bar. It’s barely noon, so we’re not really serving alcohol yet, but Liam is back there anyway, preparing for the day ahead. Even though it’s a Monday, it’s still tourist season, which means that anything could happen. Here at the Siren & Sword, we know it’s best to be prepared for everything.

It’s impossible not to notice the way Liam frowns at me as I duck underneath the bar to return the pot to the coffee machine.

“Are you feeling okay today, Mabel?” he asks.

Even though he’s my boss, I’ve known Liam since we were kids, so I don’t stop myself from huffing in annoyance at his question.

“You’re the third person to ask me that and we’ve barely been open for two hours. ”

“It just seems like something might have dulled your shine a little bit, Mabel Lee.”

I sigh heavily, resisting the urge to slump against the bar counter. My tables aren’t particularly needy at the moment, but I suddenly wish I had an excuse to get away from Liam as fast as possible. He’s too good at reading people. It’s part of what makes him such a fantastic business owner, but it also means that very little slips past his radar.

“My shine isn’t dulled,” I insist. “I’m as shiny as ever.”

“You look a little pale. And you didn’t even flirt with the man in the Yankees hat over at table four. You always flirt with the Yankees fans.”

“To be ironic , yes.”

Liam purses his lips. “And you’re hardly ever sarcastic like that.”

“That wasn’t sarcasm.”

He raises his eyebrows. I know I’m being short with him. I’m being short with everyone except the customers, but I have to admit that I’m struggling to turn on my charm up to its normal setting today.

I’m off balance. If I didn’t have to talk, then maybe I could get by without arousing so much suspicion. Or maybe not.

“If you’re not feeling well, I’d rather you take the day off,” Liam tells me. “It’s just a Monday. No big deal. You put in so many hours here every week anyway, Mabel. I was actually going to ask you when you planned to take an actual vacation.”

I roll my eyes, hoping the gesture comes off as playful rather than outwardly hostile. Right now, in this mood, I really can’t be sure.

“Why would I need to take a vacation? I already live in paradise.”

He gives me a dubious look.

“And anyway,” I continue without waiting for him to respond, “tourist season is over in a month. We’ll all be taking breaks then. I’m totally fine, boss. I promise. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess. Give me an hour and I’m sure I’ll snap out of it.”

Liam seems like he might continue to challenge me, but then the bell over the door tinkles to signal more customers.

I turn to go collect them, since our hostess is busy in the stockroom for the next few minutes. Only, when I see who it is, I almost trip over my own two feet.

Ava and Mia, rosy-cheeked from the sun and laughing brightly, enter the restaurant.

Matt’s daughters. Cal’s girls. The two little angels I’ve been hearing about for the entirety of their lives. Do they know that the cloth-bound diaries they got for their birthday last year are from me?

No, they don’t , I remind myself. Because, as usual, I told Cal to inform them that he got those gifts for the girls. How else are we supposed to explain it? A total stranger from far away is sending them presents despite having never met them?

I steel myself, stomach squirming as I wait for their father to enter behind them. Now is not the time to confront him, if I’m actually going to do that, but how am I supposed to act normal in front of him? I’m not very good at lying. Not to people’s faces, anyway.

Two other girls enter the restaurant with the twins, no parent or guardian in sight. I recognize one of the girls as Mayor Dechaine’s niece, and I’m pretty sure the other girl is Mr. and Mrs. Pelletier’s middle daughter.

I relax instantly. The twins are making friends. The twins are mature and independent enough to go around town on their own, without their dad. I imagine he’s holed away at Beaufort Manor, perhaps still hammering away on the roof and barking at nice people when they bring him baked goods.

How can he truly be Cal ?

After this weekend, there’s really no denying it. Yet I’m still having a hard time accepting it .

I don’t know if I’ll ever accept it. I feel like my reality has been split into two mirroring halves, and I can no longer tell which version is the real one.

Despite that, I have a job to do. A job that I love.

I paste a smile on my face and approach the four girls where they hover by the entrance.

“Hi, Mabel!” chirps one of the twins—Ava, I think—with a huge smile.

“Hi, hon. How are you girls?”

“We’re good,” Ava answers. “We just really want milkshakes.”

“Well, that’s no problem at all. You girls want a booth or a table?”

They confer quietly for a moment until Mia announces, “Booth, please.”

I lead them over to the booth, take their order for four chocolate milkshakes and two baskets of fries, and am halfway turned to go deliver the order slip to the kitchen when Ava speaks up again.

“Hey, Mabel?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

Ava grins. Mia nudges her in the ribs with her elbow. Mayor Dechaine’s niece giggles for no discernible reason, and then the Pelletier girl fidgets nervously. Whatever is about to come out of Ava’s mouth has clearly been discussed ahead of time.

“We were just wondering… do you have a boyfriend?”

I burst out laughing and place my hands on my hips. That was the last thing I expected her to ask, and the surprise was enough to jolt me out of my funk at least a little bit.

“Now, why on earth would you girls be wondering about that?”

This time, Mia pipes up. “Well, it’s just that you’re really pretty. Like, probably one of the prettiest ladies we’ve ever seen…”

“Well, thank you, honey, but pretty people don’t need to have boyfriends. You know that, right, girls? Because you’re all pretty, too, but that doesn’t mean you need to be wasting your time with boys.”

The mayor’s niece wrinkles her nose. “Don’t worry, Mabel Lee. I still think boys are disgusting. I’m not sure I’ll ever like them.”

I laugh again. “That’s quite alright, dear. I’m afraid you might be better off. Now, let me go put your order in, okay?”

“Wait!” exclaims Ava.

I pause again. “Yes?”

“It’s just… we were only asking because… well, like, if you don’t have a boyfriend…”

Mia finishes when her twin trails off. “Our dad doesn’t have a girlfriend, is what she means to say.”

I tut my tongue at them, but I’m also pretty sure that I’ve gone white as a sheet. My stomach drops and a wave of cold discomfort washes over me.

“And what does your father’s love life have to do with me, honey?”

Mia bites her lip.

Ava squirms in her seat, then bravely asks, “Do you think he’s handsome? Our dad?”

Yes. No…

Okay, yes. Definitely.

“Darling, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to stop this line of thinking right in its tracks. I’m fine as I am, and I’m sure your father is, too.”

The girls visibly deflate. I almost feel bad for letting them down, but there’s absolutely no way that I can play along with this. Not today.

To lighten the blow, I reach out and pat Ava’s shoulder, since she’s closest to me .

Except, when I turn toward the kitchen, I hear her whisper to the others, “I don’t care what she says—I’m telling you, they’d make the cutest couple.”I sigh to myself. This isn’t good. If the twins are on a matchmaking warpath on their father’s behalf, I know enough about them to understand they’re not going to let it drop easily. Cal has always described them as incredibly headstrong and stubborn, which I argued was a good thing, but now it might not work in my favor.

One thing is for certain, though. If Mia and Ava are really going to try to set me up with their father, they’re going to be disappointed. If we were just Maple and Cal, maybe it’d be easier for them. A few nudges, and I’m not afraid to admit I’d fall right into Cal’s arms.

But I’m not really Maple. I’m Mabel Lee. And he’s Matt Morgan.

And I don’t think this is the reality where we’re meant to be.