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"Ummaybe," I say

I make myself a stack of snickerdoodles, and I run up toon one, I open upfor dads," and lo and behold I find a dating site for single parents

I start drafting a profile First things first, he’ll need a profile pic I start going through the photos of him on my computer There are hardly any of him alone I finally settle on thich I bookth shot, because that’s one of the tips on the website--and one of hi that Scandinavian sweater we got hi a roast chicken, and he looks daddish in a wholeso rooht makes him look hardly wrinkled at all, just soet on hi sunscreen every day A ift I make a note of it in my Reminders

Daddy is only in his early forties That’s still plenty young enough to meet someone and fall in love, maybe two or three times over, even

18

WHEN KITTY WAS BORN, I said she looked like a kitten and not a Katherine, so that’s the na her and Moot and I o faster We got out all the paints and craft supplies, and Grandall over the floor, handprints everywhere We have a picture of Mo Kitty that very first day, eyes tired but bright Happy

It’s our tradition to put the sign on Kitty’s door so it’s the first thing she sees when she wakes up I get up really early and hang the sign with care, so the edges don’t bend or rip For breakfast I make her a muenster-cheese omelet With a ketchup bottle I squeeze out a cat face with a heart around it We have a "celebrations drawer," which is birthday candles, paper hats, tablecloths, eency birthday cards I take out the paper hats and put one on my head, jauntily to the side I set one each by Kitty and Daddy’s plate, and I put one on Jaet a picture before he knocks the hat off

Daddy’s prepared Kitty’s favorite lunch to take to school A Brie sandwich and chips, plus a red velvet cupcake with creas and in her cat face ohs like a hyena when the rubber band on Daddy’s hat snaps, and the hat springs off his head Truly, there’s no happier birthday girl than our Kitty

"Can I wear your sweater with the daisies on it?" she asks o get it, but you have to eat fast" He’ll be here any minute

When it’s tiood-bye, and tu for us on the street in front of his car is Peter with a bouquet of cellophane-wrapped pink carnations "Happy birthday, kid," he says

Kitty’s eyes bulge "Are those for et in the car"

Kitty turns to ht, her s too, Lara Jean?"

I shake irl today, kid," Peter says, and Kitty runs to him and snatches the flowers out of his hand Gallantly, he opens the door for her He shuts it and turns and winks at me "Don’t be jealous, Covey"

I’ve never liked him more than in this moment