“Hey, Buttercup. How was your day?”
She pressed into my side. “Good. Addie showed me how to press flowers into a book.”
“That sounds like fun.” I started towards the house, one arm wrapped around Sage as Birdie skipped around us, chattering about their trip to the park.
I looked up at Addie, waiting on the front porch. “Thanks so much for watching them again.”
“I’m happy to.” Her voice was soft, and she took a step back as I approached. I knew it was instinct, born of the situation she’d only recently removed herself from, but it still had my jaw tightening.
She shuffled her feet, looking down. “I made some chicken white bean chili. It’s cooling on the stove.”
My stomach rumbled at the mention. “Appreciate that. Make sure you take some home with you.”
“Oh, I don’t need—”
“Addie. Please. Take some home for dinner.”
Her fingers braided into some sort of intricate knot in front of her. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Do you want a ride home?” It was still light out, but I didn’t want Addie worrying about running into her father or what that run-in might lead to.
“I’ll walk. I could use the fresh air. Do you want me to pick up the girls from school tomorrow again?”
“That would be great.” It had been a godsend, having an extra set of hands. One of our neighbor’s college-aged daughters stayed with Birdie and Sage when I pulled an overnight shift at the firehouse, but we’d been desperate for after-school help for the past few months after our regular sitter had moved to Portland.
Hayes’ fiancée, Everly, had suggested that her cousin might be a good fit. And she had been. Something about her quiet spirit had been especially good for Sage. And Birdie loved Addie’s cooking.
Addie smiled at Sage and Birdie. “See you guys tomorrow.”
“Will we bake cookies?” Birdie asked hopefully.
“I was thinking peanut butter chocolate.”
“Yes!” Birdie cheered.
Sage ducked forward and gave Addie a quick hug. “See you tomorrow.”
Addie waved and headed out the front door.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah, Birds.”
“Will Hads come over to bake with us, too? We haven’t seen her inforever.”
I stiffened. It hadn’t been forever. It had been two days. “I’m sure she’ll stop by soon.” Guilt pricked at my skin. Hadley hadn’t deserved my anger earlier. She’d just scared the hell out of me with that stunt she’d pulled.
“She said we’d have a sleepover and watchAnnie,” Sage added. “She said it was her favorite movie growing up.”
A memory slammed into me of Hadley standing on the couch in the Eastons’ living room, belting outTomorrowat the top of her lungs. She’d been nowhere near on key, but that hadn’t stopped her. Hadley had always lived her life unapologetically, pretty much from the moment she could walk. She never let anyone squash that spirit.
And I didn’t want to do that now, but I didn’t want her to be reckless, either. Yet, whenever I tried to explain that to her, it never came out right.
I looked at my daughters, mirror images of each other with dark hair and amber eyes. “What? Is your old man chopped liver?” I went for Sage’s sides, tickling her. “Are you too cool for me already?” I dove for Birdie next.
“Daaaaad!” she yelled, grabbing a pillow from the couch and hitting me with it.
“You know what that means…”