Make a Wish (Spark House #3)(73)



Ian blows out a breath. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself and this relationship. You need to take it one step at a time. Don’t start building the picket fence before you’ve even had a chance to look at house plans.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right.” But now that I have this, I don’t want to lose it, and I’m terrified of fucking it up, if I haven’t done that already.

“You haven’t had a lot of opportunities to date over the last decade, and most of the women you’ve been involved with have been short-term and haven’t even met Peyton, let alone your mother-in-law, who isn’t easy on a good day. I think you need to give credit where credit is due. Harley’s got a backbone and Peyton’s best interests in mind. It’s not like this is easy for her either.”

“She doesn’t want to step on toes,” I agree.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Didn’t she lose both of her parents in a car accident when she was twelve? Unless I’ve got it wrong?”

“You’re not wrong.” It’s what sold me on hiring her in the first place all those years ago. She knew what that loss felt like. She could relate, and because of that, she seemed like a smart, safe choice for me and Peyton, despite how young she was.

“You both understand what it’s like to lose someone important, and she knows what it’s like to grow up without a mom, just like Peyton. And now she’s contending with a mother-in-law who’s making it clear she doesn’t like her. That’s gotta be tough.”

I’ve been so focused on how to keep the peace that I didn’t even take that into consideration. “My parents love her.”

“Because she’s awesome, but to Karen, I have a feeling she’s a threat.”

I tap my lip, trying to see it through Karen’s eyes, but I can’t. “Why would she see Harley as a threat? It’s not like she’s going to replace them as grandparents, and she doesn’t even have parents who are going to come into the picture either.”

“But if Harley doesn’t like your mother-in-law, she could make it difficult for them to see Peyton in the future.”

“Harley wouldn’t do that, though. That’s not her style at all. And shouldn’t Karen be nice to her instead of cutting her down?”

“Probably, yes, but all Karen sees is the fact that you moved back to Colorado Springs and within a couple of weeks, you rekindled your relationship with the nanny you left behind. She didn’t love that a twenty-year-old was having a hand in raising your kid then, and clearly that hasn’t changed. If you want this thing to work between you and Harley, and it’s clear that you do, you need to put Karen in her place. If you don’t, she’s going to keep doing this because she can get away with it. How long do you think Harley will put up with this?”

He’s right. And I’ve known this all along. Harley might be patient, but there’s only so much she can be expected to take. I can’t ask her to tolerate the way Karen is treating her, or the way I’m letting her treat Harley. It’s not fair to anyone. “Probably not long.”

“Talk to Karen, tell Harley you’re working things out, and ask her if she’s interested in coming to our place for dinner. Lynn’s mentioned that she sees Harley at the school all the time. If you’re serious about her, stop keeping her all to yourself and start folding her into your life.”



* * *



When I return home, it’s close to noon and I bring cinnamon buns with me. I consider leaving them in the car until after my in-laws go home this evening, but decide that’s me pandering to Karen and what she thinks is an acceptable brunch. There’s nothing wrong with an occasional cinnamon roll at noon on a Sunday.

I pass the living room, where Kyle is napping in my lounger with the football game droning in the background. His Sunday routine has been the same for as long as I can remember: armchair quarterback. He sleeps through 50 percent of the game, but the second anyone changes the channel, his eyes pop open. I leave him where he is for now and continue to the kitchen, where Karen is sitting at the table with Peyton, her math workbook in front of her. Peyton looks about as excited as a dead fish.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Dad!” Peyton jumps up from the table and rushes across the room, throwing her arms around me like I’m a life preserver. “Yay! You’re home! Does that mean we can go to the park now? Can we call Harley and ask her to meet us there? Can we go to that bakery with the sugar cookies?”

Every word out of her mouth makes me cringe and makes Karen’s scowl deepen. “We have three more questions to finish before we can do anything, especially go to the park. And I’m only here for a few more hours, honey. I’d love to spend my afternoon with you. We could go to the museum instead of the park. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“But we always go to the park with Harley on Sundays,” Peyton explains.

“You only get so much Granny time, and Harley’s picking you up tomorrow after school to take you to the park.” At least I’m hopeful that’s still happening. I should’ve dealt with this sooner, like when it happened, instead of dancing around it all weekend.

“But we always see Harley on Sunday afternoons,” she says adamantly. “Can we call her and see? Can’t she come with us today? She makes everything more fun.”

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