“I could understand why you wouldn’t want me to get too close.” Beej nodded like the possibility of Christian being from anotherplanet made the most sense. “One kiss and his face might fall right off.”
“Girls!” Tyler called over the raucous laughter erupting from Hallie and Kendall. Will startled, rubbing his eyes with both fists. Tyler dragged his free hand down his face as the three women blinked at him. “Anyway.I’m planning to see Christian tomorrow. I’ll ask if he has time to help you.”
Hallie drummed her fingers on the countertop, considering her brother’s suggestion. “I don’t know, Ty. I can’t pay him much, if anything at all. That’s why I’m doing it myself. I don’t want him to think I’m just using him for the family connection.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask. I’ll let you know what he says.”
“Thanks,” she said, reluctantly agreeing with her brother’s advice. She refused to take advantage of his friend, but she couldn’t deny she’d hit rock bottom in her desperation. And cluelessness. She’d be a fool not to explore every potential avenue. “You’re the best.”
“No problem.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen. “Gotta go. Gemma’s on her way home.”
His wife worked as a math teacher at the middle school in town.
Bouncing his son a little in his arms, he cooed, “Are you ready to see Mama?”
Will’s gummy grin and responding squeal provided answer enough.
Tyler touched his pointer finger to his temple and flicked it forward in a half salute directed toward the women. “See you guys later.”
Hallie joined the chorus of goodbyes following him out, feeling more hopeful than she had since purchasing her domain. Once she got her website running, she could refocus her efforts on what she did best.
If only her baking skills were all that determined the success of her floundering business.
Christian Gustafson placed his breakfast plate in the sink, ignoring the other dirty dishes underneath.I’ll worry about them later. That had been his motto the last few years. He’d worry about it later. The dishes. The laundry. His life … Everything seemed to be on that list.
Everything except simply surviving.
More than three years had passed since the worst day of his life, and he still barely managed to keep his head above water most of the time.
He stared out the kitchen window, past the back deck, at the trampoline, its black mesh netting blowing in the light breeze. Right behind it, the morning sun shone on the wooden swing set he’d built for the girls last Christmas. Pushing out a centering breath, he mentally prepared himself for another day.
Penelope’s giggles broke the quiet, and he turned in time to find his youngest daughter leaning over the side of her booster. She held her hand out, about to drop a bite of chocolate chip pancake into the open mouth of their golden retriever.
Christian let out a strangled groan, hurrying over to remove the food from the three-year-old’s fingers. “Let’s save the pancakes for the humans, Nell. Princess Pumpkin can’t eat chocolate.” He tossed the sticky bite back onto Penelope’s plate, bending to kiss her equally sticky cheek.
“Booberries,” she demanded in her sweet voice, lunging for the bowl just out of reach on the table.
He dished out a small helping. She’d already had seconds, and he didn’t want to think about the state of her pull-up once the berries passed through her.
“Daddy?”
Christian glanced at his older daughter sitting on the other side of the square table. She’d pushed her empty plate to the side and held a picture book open with her elbow.
“What’s up, kiddo?”
Isla pointed to the bottom of the page. “What’s this word?”
He came around the table to read over her shoulder. “Ghost.”
“Oh yeah. Ghost.” She went back to sounding out the words in a whisper.
Christian reached around her to grab the bottle of syrup and carried it to the fridge before turning back to his daughters. “If you’re finished, I need you to go get dressed. Aunt Dani will be here soon to take you on your special girls’ trip to the park while I’m gone.”
“Park!” Penelope’s whole body shook in anticipation of her favorite place. She strained against the strap holding her hostage in the chair, her wild limbs flinging out, knocking her sippy cup off the table.
And that’s why we still use leak-proof dishes.Mealtime was already messy enough without any spilled milk.
The clatter of plastic on the wooden floor startled the dog, who’d sprawled out on her side near her water bowl. She trotted over to investigate, the tags on her collar tinkling a metallic melody.
