“—or we could do like a dramatic reading from a play or something.”

“Oh my god, no.”

“Hmm.” I shifted my weight to my other foot. “So you have a better idea?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I'm going to go with Jake to Abu whatever it's called.”

“Abu Dhabi,” I provided helpfully. “It's in the Middle East. Very dry and dusty. I'm not sure you'd like it there.”

“I don't care.”

“Also, your phone won't work over there,” I pointed out. “He loves you but he isn't going to spring for an international plan just so you can text your friends. Trust me.”

“He'll get me one. You just said he loves me.”

“Ah, he loves you, but he fears me,” I informed her. “So, I'm afraid not.”

She groaned and threw her head back again. “This is so unfair.”

“I know,” I said, nodding sympathetically. “But it doesn't change the fact that this is the way it is , . though. So, if you don't like my ideas, you'll need to come up with one. By tomorrow.”

She made another dismissive sigh and shook her head. “Fine. Whatever.”

“By dinner tomorrow,” I said. “Or I get your phone.”

She picked up the device in question and stared at it, nearly setting the screen on fire with the lasers her eyes were shooting. “Got it.”

“Love you!”

“Close the door on your way out,” she snapped.

Maybe I didn't miss her presence that much.

EIGHTEEN

“Congratulations,” I said.

Jake eyed me suspiciously across the pillows. He had a book in his hands but I couldn't tell if he was really reading or if he was just skimming the pages. “On what?

After my conversation with Emily, Jake and I played a couple of rounds of Mario Kart with the younger ones before it all devolved into a heated conversation about who was the best Mario Kart player in the house. When Jake intervened and stated that he was the best player in the house, I knew it was time for everyone to head to bed.

And for me to have a conversation with him that I'd been avoiding since he'd gotten home.

“You won,” I said.

“Mario Kart?” He grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. “I know. Told you I'm the best.”

“No, not Mario Kart,” I said, averting his gaze.

“What are you talking about? What did I win?”

I glanced back at him. “The election.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I wasn't running for anything.”

“Right? So it's like this awesome surprise!”

“Daisy,” he said, tucking his chin to his chest and looking down his nose at me. “You're being coy and attempting to be funny.”

“Attempting?” I pouted. “You tell me all the time that I'm the funniest person you know.”

“You are,” he said. “But I know you. Me getting an awesome surprise is usually code word for me being roped into something I don't want to do. Spill it.”

I sighed. “No faith in me.”

“None,” he said, not falling for my act. “Spill it. Now.”

I swallowed hard, then pasted on a bright smile. “You've been elected as the emcee for the Prism talent show.”

He stared at me, expressionless. “What?”

“You'll have a microphone and everything,” I said quickly. I ran my hand over his bare chest. “And I love how you look in a tux.”

He rolled back onto his pillow and stared at the ceiling, much the way Emily had. “If nominated, I will not run. If elected, I will not serve.” He stared at me. “Didn't someone famous say that?”

“Fine,” I said. “You weren't elected. I appointed you.”

His eyes closed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I love seeing you in a tux,” I said, snuggling closer to him under the sheets. “And I needed an emcee.”

“No one else would do it, would they?”

I avoided answering his question. “You're funny and charming and people will be wowed by you.”

“Why can't I work, like, behind the scenes or something?” he said. “I'd have no problem doing that. None.”

He wasn't making this easy. “Because...because I need you on stage.”

His eyes flew open. “A-ha. You didn't have anyone else, did you?”

I sighed. “No ,” I admitted. .”

“So I don't really wow people?”

I trailed my hand over his chest. “You wow me,” I whispered.

He gave a soft chuckle. “Well, now you're just flattering me – and trying to seduce me – so I'll be your emcee.”

“Maybe.” I scooted closer and kissed his cheek, trailing my lips toward his ear. “Is it working?”

He made a small noise, something between a moan and a groan as I touched my tongue to his earlobe. “Do I have a choice?”

I pulled away and smiled at him. “Not really.  Unless you want to see me cry and curl up in the fetal position and look at you with big giant eyes.”

A smile tugged at his lips but he held it in check. “Can't have that, can we?”

“So you'll do it?” I asked, draping myself across him.

His arm tightened around me. “I love how you act like you actually asked me – and doubted I would.”

I kissed his shoulder. “Thank you.”

He sighed. “Anything to avoid the crying and the curling and the eyes.” His hand squeezed my arm, then trailed to my stomach.

“I have another question for you,” I said, shifting away from him.

“What? I thought we were done with the not-questions.”

“No, this one's a real one,” I said.

He waited.

“What do you know about insurance?”

“Uh, I know we have it,” he said, confused.

“No, no. Like, say, if we got robbed or something. Wouldn't our homeowner's cover it and reimburse us?”

He slipped his arm beneath me. “Sure. All of our big ticket items are listed on the policy and then I think the way it works is that we'd have to list out everything that was stolen. But, yeah, that's what insurance is for.”

“So, let's say that happened,” I continued. “We lost our stuff somehow. Then what would happen? They'd send an agent or whatever, right?”

He nodded. “They'd come out, confirm the loss and we'd agree on a claim amount. It really wouldn't be that big of a deal.”

“Would it take long to get the money?”

“I wouldn't think so,” he said. “But it's insurance, so there are always hassles. Are you thinking about going into the insurance business?”

I slapped his chest lightly. “No. I'm thinking about the computers and Prism. Bingledorf seems certain that it will be hard to get their reimbursement and I don't understand why. If they can produce the police report, the insurer shouldn't have any qualm s about covering the loss.”

“I would agree with that.”

“But she's been adamant that it's going to take forever to get their money,” I said. I shook my head. “That makes no sense to me.”

Jake shifted and threw his other arm over me. “Maybe she's dealt with them in the past and they aren't easy to work with? Or maybe they've had claims in the past that have taken awhile to get paid? I don't know.”

I didn't either, but I just couldn't believe that an insurer would stiff a school that had its computers stolen. I knew that insurance companies were notorious for denying claims and causing horrendous headaches for customers, but this seemed pretty cut and dry to me. The computers were stolen. They needed to be replaced. The insurance company was there to make that happen.

“You know what I think?” Jake whispered, nuzzling my neck.

I shivered against him and smiled. “What?”

“I think you should turn off the light and make out with the emcee.”

“Shouldn't there be some sort of ethical line there?” I said, reaching up to switch off the lamp on the nightstand. “Where the emcee and the organizer should maintain a strictly professional relationship?”

“No,” he whispered, his lips moving to my throat.“I need to practice my wowing. Prepare to be wowed.”

NINETEEN

I woke up a half hour early the next morning and decided to make pancakes. It wasn't just because I felt like eating something other than cereal and frozen waffles; I wanted to pretend, at least for a few minutes, that life was normal and that I wasn't leaving my kids and jetting out the door to an 8-hour volunteer gig. All four kids ate a plateful, including Emily, who, apart from asking me to sign a permission slip for a field trip, didn't speak to me as she got ready for school.