I take a deep breath, my mind already going through a hundred scenarios.
“Is your dad still in Vermont?”
She nods, fresh tears running down her cheeks.
I pull her into my arms. Stan grumbles but shifts his position.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. But we need to tell your dad.”
“I know.”
“Why did you run?”
“Because I wanted him to come to Stillwater and see you. He loves you, but he’s so afraid of the photographers and people on TV that he’s going to hide until they’re gone. I don’t want to hide.”
“I thought you liked it in Vermont.”
She sits up. “I do. Bastian’s mom, she’s my nan. I love baking with her, and I love when Bastian’s dad gets Fox and Stone to work in the barn. Stone always complains about his shoes or his designer jeans.”
I can imagine from the little time I’ve spent with Stone. He seems to have a big heart and an even bigger soft spot for Kay.
“Kay, is it okay if I call your dad? He must be worried sick.”
Her gaze lowers to Stan. “I suppose.”
I pick up my phone and look for Mik’s number.
Please pick up. Please pick up.
“Tyler?”
“Kay’s with me,” I say, going straight to the point.
I hear his intake of breath.
“Before you say anything, she turned up about twenty minutes ago. I didn’t know about it. She’s pretty upset, so I suggest you make your way here.”
He lets the same breath out. “Thank you, Ty. I’m…I’m sorry I haven’t—”
“Just get here, Mik. We can talk later.”
When I hang up the call, I turn to Kay. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Okay.”
Kay falls asleep halfway through the movie. I lay a blanket over her feet since Stan has the rest of her covered and go back to the kitchen table.
Thankfully the open-plan nature of my place allows me to keep an eye on her.
A little under four hours later, my doorbell rings again, rousing Kay from her sleep.
I open the door, and Mik runs past me until he’s kneeling by the couch with a sleepy Kay in his arms. “Kay, I’ve died a thousand deaths and broke a million traffic laws today. What were you thinking?”
“Mik, can I have a word?”
“Not now, Tyler.”
“Mik,” I say with a little more emphasis, pointing to the door leading to my laundry room.
