It’s the only thing I wanted. To hold onto her forever. “I loves you the mostest!” she squealed.
“No way!” I teased back through the rising emotion.
“Uh-huh!”
That was what she left me with when she pulled away and jogged to the bus, her little backpack bouncing all over. She climbed the steps. “All right, take me to school, my mommy says I have to learn all the things.”
“That’s because you’re sharp as a tack,” he told her.
“I prefer scotch tape. Much safer,” she replied. One-hundred-percent serious.
A bark of a laugh left me, and I hugged my arms over my chest like it could stop the surge of love that wanted to come spilling out.
My sweet, wild girl.
Chuckling, Mr. Duprea gave me a salute as he shut the door, and Daisy slipped into her seat, only to slide over so she could press her face to the window, giving me a distorted grin against the glass.
Nothing but a precious goofball.
I waved, mouthed, “I love you.”
“I love you,” she mimicked.
I love you the most. Forever and through all eternity.
I watched as the bus rambled away. I finally gave up and headed back up the drive when the tail of it disappeared around the bend. My boots crunched on the gravel, the sounds of the morning floodin’ the space with peace and the promise of grace.
I tried to cling to it. To make it my own.
But I couldn’t escape the uneasiness that skimmed my flesh with each lick of the cool fall breeze.
Winter coming. Something cold that I couldn’t warm.
I trudged up the porch steps, brushed off my soles on the mat, and stepped inside. Daddy was in his chair drinking his morning coffee, TV on to one of those morning news stations.
I went right for him. “Good morning, Daddy.”
I pecked a kiss to his head as if he were the child.
He sent me a soft smile. “Good morning, bella. Coffee is ready.”
“Thank goodness, I’m goin’ to need an entire pot.”
I had a ton to do today.
“…the executive director of the…” the reporter on the television droned.
I tsked. “Don’t you know starting your day off to bad news is not good for you? It sets a terrible tone for your mood, you know.”
He waved me off. “I’m not even listening. It’s only background noise, my worry wart.”
“If you were sittin’ on the porch, the birds would sound a whole lot better.”
Sadness softened his expression, and he pointed toward the ceiling. “I think I’ll stay right here and listen for her to stir.”
My insides twisted in a clutch of pain.
God. I should have realized what he was doing.
Sitting on the porch having coffee had been their routine. Their perfect way to start the day.
“Okay. Just…let me know if you need anything. I need to get to work. There are quite a few orders that need delivered today.”
“Business is blooming.” He waved an indulgent hand in the air.
Even through the wash of sorrow, I managed a grin. My daddy’s belief riding in the air. He’d used that phrase my entire life. Those words inspiring me from such a young age. Inciting the passion to watch beautiful things grow. To cultivate it. The amazement that something could come from next to nothin’, just a tiny seed that grew to the fullness of life.
Every flower like the hope of a new day.
A better day.
“It is blooming beautifully,” I told him softly, our gazes holding for a minute. In it was the promise that we were in this together. That neither of us were alone.
Finally, I gave him a faint smile. “Have a great mornin’, Daddy. I’ve got my phone if you need me.”
I started for the kitchen, only to freeze when I heard the name mentioned in the background.
Carolina George.
My hand shot out to the doorframe, and my heart skipped an erratic beat. I slowly turned around to whatever news story was coming across the airways, knowing I should pay it no mind, pretend it didn’t exist, but unable to stop myself from listening.
All of it too close.
Like I could reach out and touch it. Be part of it again.
Richard’s face flashed through my mind. The desperation of his plea from three days ago. The look in his eyes that had punched me in the guts and left me questioning everything.
I needed to stay away.
Build a hedge of protection around Daisy and myself. Shun every advance because the man could not be trusted.
Not those seductive words or those knowing eyes or those wicked, magical hands.
I shivered at the thought.
And I’d been the fool who’d accepted Emily’s invitation to stand up in her weddin’.
But how could I have said no?
“…Carolina George was to sign with the mega-record label back in August. Karl Fitzgerald, the CEO of Mylton records, was arrested during that fateful meeting. He is facing charges of embezzlement, extortion, obstruction of justice, human trafficking, child endangerment, among other accusations. If convicted, he could face up to 200 years in prison.”