Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(47)

“You ready?” Isaac asks.

I move my eyes off my dad’s retreating truck, nodding.

Britt hugs me. “See you at work on Monday.”

I echo her words. She gets in her car and pulls away from the curb. I watch her go, fighting the urge to run after her. They've really left me with him. And now I'm supposed to leave here. With him. The realness of this is finally hitting me.

“I think it’s our turn.” Isaac grabs my hand and runs his thumb across the top of it. His gentle touch soothes my nerves.

“Mommy! I’m bored.” Claire yells from her car seat.

We chuckle and head for our cars. Isaac pauses at his open door.

“See you at home.” The words put a smile on his face. He climbs in and shuts the door.

Those words… I wish they put a smile on my face. They strike fear in me. But also hope. Hope this all goes well. This thing we’re doing, in the name of giving our daughter the very best.





“That’s all of them.” Isaac sets the final box on the floor beside my new bed. “I wasn’t sure what kind of bedding you’d like. You can get something different if you don’t like it.”

I lean back on the bed, one hand supporting me, while my other hand trails along the stitching in the royal blue comforter. “You did a good job. It’s lovely.”

“I thought it might match your eyes.” He bends, his gaze level with mine. Brown eyes penetrate me until my insides twist. “I was right,” he whispers.

My breath feels hollow in my throat, and my chest feels like it’s fumbling for heartbeats.

He doesn’t move away, though by now I’m certain his check of my eye color versus the bedspread is complete. The seconds tick by, and I’m starting to notice things, like how Isaac’s lower lip is a tiny bit bigger than his upper, and his gradual, barely there widow’s peak. And the tiny freckle beside his nose.

I clear my throat, leaning away at the same time. I need distance. Now.

Isaac straightens and steps back. “I’ll go make dinner.” He pauses on his way out the door and looks back at me. “You don’t care if we have ice cream for dessert, do you?”

“No.” I shake my head slowly, a tad confused. I’m sure my face reflects it.

He puts his hands in the pockets of his jeans and shrugs. “Just checking.” He starts to leave, then turns back quickly. “Lions don’t live in Arizona.”

I stare at him, perplexed. “Huh?”

“Your dad. He said someone spotted a lion from last weekend.”

“Mountain lion. Not a rawr lion,” I make claws with my hands and swipe the air.

Isaac grins. “Can you do that again?”

My arms cross, and I tuck my hands into my underarms. “No.”

He chuckles and leaves. I listen to his retreat, then get up and go to Claire’s room to start unpacking her clothes.



“What do we do now?” Claire gazes expectantly at Isaac. He pauses his gathering of the ice cream bowls, lips twisting as he considers her question.

“Um, I don’t know. What do you normally do after dinner?”

“Play. Read. Take a bath.”

Isaac finishes stacking the bowls and brings them to me at the sink, where I’m rinsing and loading the dishwasher.

“Do you ever play cards?” He goes back to the table and clears the remaining items.

“Nope. Never.” Claire gives me an accusatory look.

“Whoa now.” I hold up my hands, water dripping from the spatula I was rinsing. “It’s not like I was keeping them from you. I didn’t think to introduce them.”

Isaac comes up behind me, holding the dirty napkins and barbecue sauce from dinner. “Claire, I’m sure your mom would’ve showed you how to play a game of cards if she knew how.”

I turn my head sharply to the side and glare playfully at him. “I know how.”

“Oh, you do? Well then, you should join me and Claire for a wild game of Go Fish.”

I walked right into that one. I was going to escape to the bedrooms to keep unpacking, and I think he knew that.

It’s not that I don’t want to play with them, but I’m getting overwhelmed by the events of the day and navigating our first afternoon and evening together. I don’t know what to do next, and I’m not comfortable yet. Working on our rooms seemed like the best option.

“Come on, Mommy.” Claire gets down from her chair and joins me at the sink.

I drop down, so we’re eye to eye.

“You want me to play with you and your dad?”

She nods.

Behind Claire, Isaac watches us as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

“OK, I’ll play.” I push some hair out of Claire’s eyes.

She whoops and runs out of the kitchen. I stand and look at Isaac.

“This is a lot to take in—” I start to say.

At the same time, he says “I know this is an adjustment.”

We laugh once, a bit of the tension melting away.

“Thanks for understanding.” I take the dish towel he used to dry his hands and hang it from the oven handle.

“Thanks for not judging me when I had a second scoop of ice cream.” Isaac pats his stomach.