Enemy's Secret - Ashlee Price Page 0,48

the canvases, paint and marbles on the back lawn outside while Maddy plays with her Beanie Babies inside, Landon smiles at me. "Madison's pretty awesome."

"Thanks," I say, trying to keep the relief out of my voice.

Although it has been less than an hour that he's been here. I shouldn't jump to conclusions about this working or not. Plus, it's less about Landon getting along with Madison than about Madison getting along with Landon.

"About her dad..." he begins hesitantly.

"I don't want to talk about it," I snap. I sink onto the wooden step of the back porch, letting a long slow exhale roll out of my throat. It's a bit cold out here. I should be getting a sweatshirt.

As I'm heading in to get one, I realize that I've left Landon standing there, looking more than a bit sheepish.

"One thing at a time, OK?" I say.

"Just... don't want to say the wrong thing," he says.

Aw, he looks so glum. I almost feel bad. I rise and squeeze his hand. "Hey. It's OK. You're doing fine."

"Good." He swallows, musters up a smile. "I'm way out of my depth here. But good."

Just then Madison bursts out, running at top speed and then skidding to a stop in front of our set-up. "Whoa. Cool."

"You ready to get started?" I ask her.

Plopped on her butt already, taking out a marble, she grins. "I'm ready!"

An hour or so later, our hands are paint-splattered, our canvases paint-covered and we're out of purple paint, but we've done it. We've done the marble paint craft, and it's Madison's bedtime.

"Time for bed," I tell her.

She groans. "Mom. Can't I hang out with you and your friend a bit longer? He's cool."

Behind her, Landon points to her, grinning and nodding emphatically, and mouths: I'm cool.

I roll my eyes. "Nope. You were sick just the other day. You need all the sleep you can get."

"Ugh," Madison groans again, although she's heading inside. At the door, she pauses, "Was Landon your boyfriend?"

I pause. "Why do you ask that?"

"He was just in a bunch of Mom's pictures in her photo album," Madison says before disappearing inside.

I stand there a few seconds. I can't tell what I'm feeling. Can't even tell what I'm thinking.

"Yes, he was," I say, following her inside. "But that was a long time ago."

"OK, Mom," she says, then leaves to brush her teeth.

The rest of the night is more surrealness: Landon helps out reading Madison a story - Babar Gets Groceries.

I can't stop giggling at Landon's put-on falsetto voice for Queen Celeste.

Then, all at once, it's just the two of us standing in the hallway outside.

"That was fun," Landon says. "Guess I'll be seeing you?"

"You've got somewhere to be?" I ask, careful not to let the sinking of my gut sound in my voice.

"No." He pauses, can't seem to let himself look at me. "Just - seeing you today was enough for me. Don't want you thinking I'm here for something more."

Aw!

Maybe it really is the same for him as it is for me. How, when I catch his eye, let myself look at him for too long, I can't think. Can hardly breathe.

"You sure?" I ask.

"Not really," he says with a small smile as he heads for the door.

There, after he's put on his shoes, he says, "See you, Kyra."

"See you, Landon," I say.

And then he leaves.

I stand there, in the doorway, listening to his car start up and drive away.

Not even a goodbye kiss...

And yet the butterflies in my chest are doing the can-can as if we did that and more. In a way, we did.

Today worked. We worked. Me, and Landon, and Maddy...

I head for the kitchen wearing what's probably a stupid smile, although I'm not about to hang around mooning over it.

Better not to think about it. Not yet, anyway.

First, I get some long-overdue house errands and cleaning done. I'm just about to get started brushing my own teeth when my phone rings.

It's Landon.

"I just wanted to tell you that I get it now," he says. "Why you wanted to protect your daughter. She's pretty special."

"Thanks," I say, "but - "

"I'm not finished yet. I want you to know that I'd like to be a part of both of your lives - if you'll let me."

...Is he actually saying this?

...He's actually saying this.

...And what am I going to say about it?

"Kyra?" he says.

"OK," I say.

It's all I can say. I can't even begin to process this, what I think about it, what I should think about it.