Maise wanders into the foyer, pulling her holiday sweater over her head. “Daddy, can I have candy while you’re gone?”
I squat down and she falls into my lap. “You’ll have to ask CC. And bedtime is still seven-thirty, eat all your veggies, and no more than an hour of screen time, kiddo.”
She sags in my grip. “Oh, alright . . .”
I chuckle. “I’ll miss you, Maise.”
It’s the first time we’ve ever been apart, and I hope she will be okay. But I have faith that her and CC will be just fine without me. For a few days... It’s only a few days.
“Bye, Daddy. I love you.”
Emotion clogs my throat, but I manage to say, “Love you, too, kiddo.” I press a kiss to her forehead.
I let her go and guide her into CC’s space. Celeste slides her arms over Maise’s shoulders and leans down, hugging her tight.
I walk out and close the door before my heart craps out.
Caleb waits in his truck, idling on the side of the curb. I toss my bag in the back and climb into the front passenger seat.
“All set, bud?” he asks, pulling the truck onto the street.
I can’t drag my gaze from my house, the girls standing by the window huddled together.
“Yeah, let’s get this over with.”
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
CELESTE
Maise dances around the tree as I wrap gifts for Quin and my dad on her living room floor. The music that used to instill sadness and overwhelm in me sends her prancing around the sofa as she spins and waves her hands around to “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas”.
Michael Bublé edition, if I’ve got the swoony tone pinned down.
The fire crackles, sending its warm and flickering glow around the softly lit room. It is a little surreal being here without Quinton, yet the house feels like more of a home than next door with Dad gone.
The thought of him surrounded by strangers makes my chest squeeze. But I understand that to him, everyone is a stranger now.
I tie off the red ribbon on his gift, another classic book I picked up from the Christmas market before the tree lighting a week ago.
Wow, that was only a week ago? It feels like years’ worth of stuff has happened in the last seven days. In the last month, if I’m honest.
“CC, can you run me a bubble bath?”
Maise flops onto the sofa, and I spin on my seat and look up at her. “All out of moves, little lady?”
“Dancing is exhausting.” Her head lolls to one side.
Pushing to my feet, I scoop her up and onto my hip. “Come on then, let’s get you washed and ready for bed.”
When we walk from the living room toward the stairs, she twists in my hold. “Daddy would never let me stay up this late.”
I glance at the old clock on the mantel that shows ten past nine.
Shit, so much for her bedtime. The night just got away from us, with dinner, dancing, present wrapping, and a whole ton of laughter and fun.
Something warm and permanent fills me to the bone.
