I wanted to do that. I really did. I wanted to be like Rose. But the mere idea of laying all my biggest insecurities bare before Jack caused anxiety to sweep throughout my body.
Why am I so afraid?
Wouldn’t forgiveness and trying again just result in more broken hearts? Richard just didn't understand.
I pulled the stupid hat off my head and put it on the table.
The low hum of an engine jerked my attention toward the street. Jack was home. He’d left at 4:30 a.m. and was probably exhausted. I was thankful for a reason to exit the conversation.
“We need to get back and start dinner.”
I called Kacey and instructed him to gather up his cars as a meltdown pressed against my throat.
We said our goodbyes and headed toward our gate when Richard said, “Don’t forget your new gardening hat.”
I turned back and grabbed it with a fake smile.
FORTY-NINE
Jack
Miranda walked, chin tucked, from Richard’s backyard into ours. Kacey trailed behind her. I waved, but she didn’t look up. Before she disappeared behind the house, I called out, “Miranda! Kacey!”
Kacey whipped his head around then bounded toward me.
“Hey, buddy!”
He tackled my legs. “Hi, Dack!”
I faked a mad voice. “Hey now.” I grabbed him by the waist and lifted him, flipping his legs into the air and over my shoulder. “We talked aboutDack.”
He giggled uncontrollably into my chest, limp as a rag doll. “Oh, I keep fowgetting!” I ran a spider hand up his back and he squirmed and kicked, correcting himself. “Daddy! Daddy!”
It still brought the biggest smile to my face even though he’d never said it without being prompted. I kept it lighthearted, but knew the day he said it all on his own would break me.
I flipped him upright and settled him against my hip. “Want to see what I brought?”
“Yes! Yes!”
Miranda made her way around the house. The moment she saw the truck bed, she paled.
My heart plummeted into my tennis shoes, suddenly worried I overstepped. I thought she’d be happy.
I pointed into the truck bed so he could see. Kacey screamed, almost bursting my eardrums. “My toys!” He jerked, trying to scramble to them. “Slow up, Kacey. I’ll get them out.”
I set him down and he ran to Miranda. “Mommy, Dack brought my toys!”
“I see.” Her monotone reply set me on high alert.
How is she not happy?
I looked at her face, she clearly wasn’t. As a matter of fact, she looked ill. Flustered, restless, obviously teary-eyed.
She came to the back of the truck while I loosened a ratchet.
Worry lines on her forehead sent my brain into a defensive position. Swallowed it down the best I could, searching for something less combative to say. “You don’t look happy.”
“I—you—” She shook her head, gathering thoughts. Irritation caused my neck to tingle. “You shouldn’t have done this, Jack.”
