Dylan had frowned. “But she’s with you more.”
“It’ll even itself out.” She was certain of it. And she didn’t want to be beholden to anybody. “Why not set up a college fund for her? That would be something good to do.”
“College. Yeah.” Dylan had nodded, his eyes wide. “Man, when she goes to college she’s definitely having a guard.”
Tomorrow he’d fly to Europe, and wouldn’t be back for months. She could tell from his demeanor that he was finding that thought difficult. Strangely, Isla was okay with it. She’d patted his hand and promised to FaceTime with him a lot.
Taking Isla’s hand, Meghan walked up to her parents’ house, pressing the bell and smiling down at Isla. “We’re not staying long,” she told her. “I don’t know about you but I want to get home.”
To her little apartment. To her shop. To her life.
And to all the problems she’d left behind for a few days. She took a deep breath in as the front door opened, and her mom’s beaming face was revealed in the gap.
“Well this is a surprise,” she said, leaning down to hug Isla. “Oh my goodness, you look like you’ve grown again.”
“Have we come at a bad time?” She wanted to get this over with.
“Not at all. I was just getting started on dinner. Would you two like to join us?”
“No. But maybe a glass of something cool. We’re on our way home, but I wanted to drop in and speak with you and dad first.” Meghan glanced at Isla. “In private.”
Her mom’s smile dissolved. “Is there a problem?”
“No problem.” Meghan touched Isla’s shoulder gently. “Why don’t you go play with your iPad in the living room. I’ll speak with Granny and Gramps in the kitchen.”
“Sure.” Isla was clutching the tablet like somebody might steal it from her. It was funny how attached she already was to it.
Meghan’s father was in the yard, tending to his roses. Her mom called out to him from the kitchen and he looked up, his brows knitting when he saw Meghan standing there. Her mom was wringing her fingers, as though she was anticipating the worst.
It took Meghan a moment to realize why she seemed so edgy. The last time she’d dropped in without notice was when she’d told them she was pregnant with Isla. They hadn’t spoken for months after that.
Her dad walked into the kitchen and scrubbed his hands clean, drying them on a towel before turning to look at Meghan. “Is everything okay?” he asked, shooting a strange glance at his wife. She shrugged and pressed her lips together.
“Everything’s fine. I just need to let you guys know something. We’re on our way home from L.A. and I thought it would be better to tell you face to face.”
Her parents shared another glance. “I guess we’d better sit down,” her dad said, pointing at the kitchen table.
Her mom carried three glasses of cool lemonade over, passing them out. She was silent as she sat down, and she looked at her husband with a wary eye.
“So what’s this about?” he asked Meghan.
“Isla’s father came to see us last weekend. We’ve been in L.A. with them this week. He wants to be part of her life.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Her dad leaned forward, his brows raised.
Her parents listened as she explained the events of the last few days, leaving out any mention of Rich and their mess of a relationship. She explained who Dylan was, knowing she’d never quite given them the whole story eight years ago.
“He’s a drummer?” her dad asked, shaking his head. “And all this time he ignored you.”
“What does this mean for you and Richard?” her mom asked. “How does he feel about another man in Isla’s life.”
“Dylan is Isla’s father, not just another man. And Rich and I are taking a break.” Meghan exhaled softly. It was the understatement of the year.
“I don’t like the sound of this drummer,” her dad said. “Or of you and Isla in L.A.. Do you know the things that go on there?”
“We were mostly at his house. And nothing went on. He’s in his thirties, and engaged to be married. His fiancée was lovely to us both.”
“His fiancée?” Her mother’s voice lifted. “He’s engaged to another woman?”