“Is he retired?” I lay Claire's things next to her car seat while Aubrey straps her in. She leans over Claire, her hair swirling around herhead.
“He's a journeyman. He worked this weekend, so he's off today and tomorrow. I think he left sometime around three this morning.” She clicks the buckles into place and closes the door. I do the same, looking at her over the roof of hercar.
“So your dad plays with electricity for a living and goes hunting? Is there anything else that could make him more of abadass?”
Aubrey smirks. “He was aMarine.”
My hands fly into the air. “Of course he was. He probably thinks I'm some weakling trying to come in here and steal hisfamily.”
Aubrey snorts. “Hardly.”
“He doesn’t?” I raise my eyebrows,prodding.
“No.”
“What is it he thinks, then?” I can tell she doesn’t want to tell me, but this is something I need to know. John has more influence over Aubrey than anybody. Knowing his thoughts might helpme.
Aubrey stares at me. The rest of her face is still, no emotion expressed, but I know there’s a tornado smashing its way through her insides. Aubrey may be a statue sometimes, but she’s notstone.
She breaks. Sighing, she mutters, “He supports your idea of us moving in. He thinks it would be best forClaire.”
“Really?” I'm grinning. “And what do youthink?”
“I’m still thinking about it.” She peers into the window at Claire, then glances at the gold watch on her left arm. “We need to get going. Followme?”
“See you there.” I walk to my truck, resisting the urge to skip or dance or do something ridiculous to let out thisexcitement.
John supports me. That'shuge.
Now all I have to do is make Aubrey see that Claire needs both her parents under the sameroof.
* * *
When my phonerings at nine o’clock the next night, it startles me. After a morning full of patients, an emergency surgery, and dinner out with my office staff, I’m beat. The words in the book I’m reading were swimming together, and my head was growing heavy. Until my phone rang,anyway.
Now I’m awake. I splashed cold water on my face and changed my clothes. I’ll be at Aubrey’s house in a fewminutes.
I don’t live far, which is a good thing. As I drive, I think of what Aubrey said when I answered thephone.
“Claire is asking for you.” Aubrey hesitated over her words. “I’ve tried putting her off, but she’s in meltdown mode, and I really think she needs you.” Even through the phone I felt how much Aubrey hated admittingit.
I arrive in record time, thanks to the late hour. Aubrey rises from the porch swing as I hurry up thepath.
Disappointment falls over me. “Did she cry herself to sleep?” I wanted this moment. I want to be Claire’s knight in shiningarmor.
Aubrey looks at the house as if she can see through the walls and straight to Claire’s room. “No. She agreed to calm down when I told her you were coming. I needed a break from thewailing.”
I try not to show my relief. “Can I goin?”
“Sure. I’ll just wait out here.” She sits back down and peers out into thedarkness.
Quietly I slip through the house until I get to Claire’sroom.
“Claire,” I whisper, tapping with two fingers on the partially opendoor.
“Daddy,” she stage-whispers.
I push through and find her sitting up on her bed, smiling. She looks adorable in her yellow nightgown, her hair messy around herface.
