Custom Love by Chantal Fernando

Chapter Twelve

Trade opens the door with a warm smile, and I can’t help but return it.

“I brought dessert,” I say, holding up the tray.

“I can see that. I just ordered some pizza. I hope that’s okay—the kids insisted.”

“Pizza is fine with me,” I say, stepping inside. He takes the dessert from me, and leads me to the kitchen. The kids are all watching a movie, but stop and say hello when they notice me.

“You brought two desserts?” Trade asks, amusement laced in his tone.

“Well, I didn’t know if the kids would like blueberry cheesecake,” I explain. “So I got backup chocolate cupcakes. Everyone likes chocolate.”

“They will eat anything with sugar, I promise you. Can I get you something to drink? Soda, wine or beer?” he offers, opening the fridge and scanning what’s inside. “You know, I should thank you. AJ has been in the kitchen trying all the recipes in that cookbook you gave him for his birthday—it’s been awesome. I think he can take over as head chef soon enough.”

“I thought he would like it...well, I hoped he would,” I reply, smiling. “And a beer sounds great.”

“Beer it is.” He grabs two out of the fridge and hands me one of them.

“Thank you.”

He then leads me outside, where we sit on the big comfortable chairs on his patio.

“It’s so quiet out here.”

“I know, it’s my little escape,” he admits. It must be hard being the sole parent, and knowing that the weight of raising children lands on you alone. I can’t imagine how strong of a person he must be to be doing that, and doing it so well.

“You are a wonderful dad, you know that?” I say, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink.

“I try. You never know if you are doing it completely right, but you kind of follow your gut and hope for the best,” he says before pausing. “Temper and I didn’t have the best childhood, and I never wanted that for my own children. I’ve made a lot of mistakes along the way, but I do the best that I can.”

“That’s all anyone can do.”

“Are you close to your family?” he asks.

“I don’t have much family,” I explain.

“So it’s just you out here alone?” he asks.

“Yeah, just me and my friends. I spend so much time at work there’s not much time for anything else.” It sounds sad even to my own ears.

“Well, luckily you have all of us now,” he replies after a few moments. “We can be the family you didn’t want but got stuck with anyway.”

I laugh. “You guys are all wonderful. The MC is definitely like the big, tight-knit family I always wanted.”

“That’s nice to hear.”

The pizza guy pulls up and we both head inside. While Trade goes to answer the front door, AJ comes and sits next to me at the dining table. “So Nadia, I figured it out. My go-to meal,” he tells me excitedly.

“What is it?”

“Bagels with cream cheese and avocado. I’ve eaten one every day this whole week. Do you want me to make you one?”

“We’re about to have pizza, but another time, yeah, I’d love to try one,” I reply, smiling.

Trade and the girls join us at the table. This is such a new experience for me, and I take it all in, listening to them, watching them interact. I notice how the older kids all help look after Mila, like true siblings, and how close all of them are.

India even kisses Mila on top of her head. “You smell good, Mila.”

Mila grins back at her. “Thanks.”

They all love each other, and it’s really nice to see. They don’t fight and argue, although I’m sure that happens sometimes. But from what I’ve seen they all respect each other and work as a unit.

Trade helps Mila serve her food and watches her, making sure she is okay at all times, and it’s super cute. He truly sees her, and treats her as his own.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Mila says.

“You’re welcome,” Trade responds with a smile of approval at her polite manners. “I didn’t know what pizza you liked, so I got a little of everything,” he says to me.

“I’m not too fussy,” I tell him. “I usually get pepperoni. Sometimes with jalapenos.”

“So you like it spicy, huh?” he replies, smirking.

“Something like that.”

“I did get pepperoni.”

He opens the box for me, and I take out a slice. “Thank you.”

“That’s my favorite, too,” India says, smiling. “Alia likes the plain cheese one. I think it’s a little boring.”

“Sometimes the classics are the best,” Alia fires back.

“I like them all,” Mila announces, grinning. She’s super cute. I can’t help but smile every time I’m around her.

“Do you want a piece of my meat lovers?” AJ asks, pointing at his pizza box.

“Sure, why not?” I add another piece onto my plate.

I spend the next hour chatting with Trade and the kids, loving the banter back and forth between them.

“I already know what I want for Christmas,” India is telling us all.

“Was it a new mom? Because it looks like you might be getting one,” Alia mutters, loud and clear enough for all of us to hear it.

My mouth slightly drops open, and I don’t know what to say to that. This is the first that Alia has seemed unhappy with me being around them, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next. I bring my eyes to Trade, who is looking unimpressed.

“Alia,” he says sternly. “That was uncalled for.”

“Is it the truth, though?” she replies, arching her brow at her father.

“Alia.” India scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s not a crime for Dad to hang out with a lady.”

“The last time he hung out with a lady—”

“She ended up being a better mom to us than our own mom,” India fires back.

The table goes silent.

And then AJ, bless him, declares, “I like Nadia. You better not scare her away.”

“I want my mommy. I don’t wanna new mom.” Mila starts to cry, and India gets up to give her a big hug, soothing her.

Trade gives his oldest daughter a smile and then stands. “Alia, come with me now. We are going to have a chat.”

“You’re in trouble now,” AJ sings. When the two of them disappear, he smiles at me. “Don’t listen to her.”

“It’s okay,” I say, giving a quick look to Mila, who seems to have stopped crying. I start talking to all three of them. “You know, no matter what, no one will replace your mom. I know some bad things have happened to you guys, but your mom will always be here.” I put my hand over my heart. “No one will ever replace her, ever.”

Mila puts her small hand over her own heart and gives it a pat. I melt just watching her.

“Thanks, Nadia,” India says.

Trade and Alia rejoin us. “I’m sorry, Nadia. That was rude and I shouldn’t have said that,” she says, and while I can tell she means it, there is a hint of indignation to her. She’s a tough cookie. I see a bit of myself in her.

“It’s okay,” I assure her. “Thank you for your apology.”

It’s awkward, but we move on. After dinner they have their showers while I clean up the kitchen, and then Trade reads them a story in bed.

“Sorry that took so long,” he says. “And you didn’t have to clean up.”

“Don’t say sorry for being a good father,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You do what you have to do, don’t worry about me.”

We head back outside and sit down together, enjoying the moonlight and the cool breeze. I could sit and look up at the sky with him all night.

“I’m really sorry about Alia,” he says.

“It’s okay. It isn’t going to be smooth sailing all of the time.”

He sighs. “No, it’s not. That doesn’t mean that she can be rude, though.”

“Being a single dad must be hard.”

He nods. “It is, and I know that they miss Ariel. I do have a lot of help, though, and the kids have so many people who love them. I tell them that all the time.”

“They do,” I agree. “But they have been through a lot. You all have.”

“Thank you for what you said to them. Alia heard it, too. I think I have to be better about reminding them of that. Talking about Ariel, keeping her memory alive.”

“Have you not talked about her?” I ask in surprise.

He cringes a bit. “Well...not really, no. I just assumed talking about her would make them feel bad and make them miss her.”

I grab his hand. “Trade, they will miss her regardless. Talking about her will make them happy. Will make them remember all the good. They need that. You need that.”

“How’d you get to be an expert?” he asks while giving my hand a squeeze.

“I lost my mom when I was young, and while it wasn’t easy, my dad and I made it work.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. It’s been a long time. I had a good childhood, although my parents worked a lot. Me and my dad had a great relationship.”

“Had?” he asks with trepidation.

I nod. “Yeah, he passed away after my mom. It was a heart attack, about five years ago.”

“We aren’t always dealt easy hands.” He sighs, looking up at the stars. “It’s just fucked up how bad things happen to good people.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Ariel never hurt anyone in her life. She was a good person, and she didn’t deserve what happened to her. You want to know the real fucked up thing?”

“What?” I ask.

“I told her we were going out to a fancy dinner, which is why she wanted to get dolled up. If I hadn’t made those plans, she wouldn’t have been on the road that evening, and she would still be alive today,” he says, laughing without humor. “I think about that all the time. If I had planned dinner on a different night, or if we had just stayed at home and chilled, she would still be here.” He looks down at our entwined hands and squeezes.

That’s heavy, and a lot of guilt to carry around. And as good of a time as I’m having here tonight, I wish for him and those kids that she was alive as well.

“You can’t think of it like that. It won’t change anything, and there’s no point punishing yourself about it. It was nothing you did, and it wasn’t your fault.”

It would be hard not to get lost in the what-ifs, though, and I really do feel for him. The world can be a cruel place sometimes, and he’s felt that firsthand.

So have the children.

I let go of his hand, reminded how complicated this whole situation is. It’s only been a year since he lost Ariel. I know there are no rules on how long it takes for people to move on and that everyone deals with grief differently, but it seems too soon for us.

Maybe we should wait longer. If we don’t, are we ruining us before we even start? I feel like if we rush into this we might be destined to fail.

I don’t know.

He reaches out and takes my hand back. “You are a bright light, you know that?”

I duck my head, not knowing what to say to that. “Do you think you are...” I trail off and clear my throat. Just say it, Nadia. “It’s only been a year since you all lost Ariel.” I look down at our intertwined fingers, finally understanding exactly why Bronte has been so concerned and wary of the situation. “I just want to make sure we know what we are doing right now.”

He nods slowly. “I’m going to be honest... I have no idea what we’re doing. I just know that I like being around you, and I find myself thinking about you all the time. I know why you’d be concerned—you have every right to be. I will always love Ariel, but I cannot live in the past. It’s not good for me and it’s not good for my kids. She’s gone and I’ve accepted the situation for what it is.”

“So you think the timing is right?” I ask.

“I think that you’ve got my head so muddled I have no idea,” he admits.

“So we both have no idea what the hell we’re doing, or if it’s a good idea, but we both like each other and seem to be unable to stay away from each other,” I confirm.

He nods. “Yeah. When you put it like that, we’re fucked, aren’t we?”

“We are so fucked.”

“I’d like to take you out sometime, if that’s okay with you? I’d like to see where this goes...”

“Okay, I’d like that.”

“But...” he says, then pauses as if he’s still gathering his thoughts. “I can’t promise that I won’t screw this up. I’m ready to move on, but...”

I reach out to touch his arm. “I understand. Dating a father of four is new for me, too.”

He laughs.

One of the girls calls out for Trade, and I use that moment to take my leave, saying goodnight and walking myself out.

I leave feeling more confused than when I walked inside his house, but not everything has to make sense or be solved right away, right?

Some things, usually the best things, you just have to let flow naturally and see what happens.

If it’s meant to be, it will.