I like her already.
“You’re bossy,” he tells her.
“You’re welcome,” she says, then flops onto the edge of the deck beside Maya, tugging her sweatshirt sleeves over her hands.
Declan watches her go.
“You seem like a good dad,” I say before I can overthink it.
He gives a small shrug, like he’s not used to compliments. But he doesn’t deflect either.
“I try.”
Dinner winds down in waves—plates scraped clean, chairs shifted closer to the heaters, laughter carrying across the yard.
At some point, Maya pulls her phone from her hoodie pocket and whispers something to Sophie. The two of them huddle, giggling, then dart over to Erin.
“Can we do it now?” Maya stage-whispers, practically bouncing on her toes.
Erin smiles and waves them on. “Of course. Go on—let’s hear it.”
They light up, racing toward the clear patch of patio like it’s a real stage.
Maya taps at her phone, and a soft instrumental intro floats out into the yard. Something acoustic and sweet. Sophie stands a little stiff at first, hands at her sides, until Maya elbows her.
Then she smiles—wide and unapologetic—and starts to sing.
And holy cow… she’sgood.
Her voice is clear, warm, and expressive. She sings like she means it, like shefeelsit, and Maya backs her with harmonies that make the whole thing feel… kind of magical.
Erin beams. David’s got his arm around her shoulders. I glance to my left.
Declan’s watching Sophie with a quiet kind of pride—shoulders relaxed, the faintest smile tugging at his mouth.
And in that moment, it’s obvious—he doesn’t need to say he’s proud.
It’s written all over him.
The song ends to clapping and cheers. Maya bows dramatically. Sophie laughs and tugs her into a half-hug before ducking back to the lawn.
“Dang,” I murmur. “She’s got pipes.”
Declan nods. “She does.”
Maya plops down next to me on the porch step, breathless from the performance.
“Did you like it?”
“You two crushed it.” I nudge her knee gently. “Seriously, that was amazing.”
She beams. “We’re doing our musical at school next month. You should come!”
“Yeah?” I smile. “When is it?”
“May 29th. It’s a Friday night.”
I pause, thinking through the team’s rehab and travel schedule in my head.
