By the time he’d managed to pull the trundle bed from under Jordan’s twin size, Chelsea had reappeared with the wet cloth.
“Is this where she’s sleeping?”
Theo laid her down and proceeded to peel off the girl’s shoes and socks. “Yes. I gave my parents my bed, and I’ve been on the twin.”
Chelsea wiped down their daughter’s hands and face, then tugged her cake and dirt-stained shirt over her head and removed her shorts. Jordan didn’t even twitch.
“Wow, she’s really out, huh?”
After locating a long t-shirt, he and Chelsea worked together to wiggle it on the child. A few kisses and whispered “I love yous” and they turned off the light. Standing in the doorway, they watched the peaceful face of their daughter in the glow of the night-light.
He pressed Chelsea back against his chest, feeling her warmth. They fit so perfectly together.
“She had a great day.” Chelsea’s soft voice drifted toward him.
“Yup, and you are part of the reason.”
“Me? I didn’t do much. Hung a few balloons and carried out some food.”
“There was only one thing she wanted for her birthday, and she got it.”
Chelsea tilted her chin up. “That swing set did get her excited.”
Spinning her around, he tucked some hair behind her ear. “The swing set was nice, but it wasn’t what she’d wanted for years.”
The confusion in Chelsea’s expression was thick.
“She wanted her mom to come back. I’ve kind of had that same wish myself.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she bit her lip. “You know, every year at this time, I almost couldn’t make it through the day. I’d go somewhere quiet and cry until I couldn’t breathe any more. This year, I thought maybe if I was here, it would be different. I could finally put it behind me and start to heal.”
Holding her tighter, he rubbed her back and stroked her hair. What he wouldn’t give to make all her past hurt go away.
“I’m so sorry, pixie. I wish I could change the past.” His own eyes grew wet.
She straightened up and touched his cheek. “I know we can’t go back to the beginning, but we can start from here and make a better ending.”
“Such a wise woman.”
Chelsea giggled. “It’s not mine. I read it somewhere.”
God, he missed this. Holding her, being with her, simply talking with her. “Then, we’ll definitely go from here and make a better future.”
When they went downstairs, his parents were in the kitchen, washing and drying the trays and pans that had been used today. “What can we do to help?” Theo asked. “You shouldn’t be cleaning up this mess. Chelsea and I can finish it up. Why don’t you two relax in front of the TV?”
“It’s not even eight,” his mother said. “Nothing good starts until prime time.”
His dad placed a tray on the kitchen table and tilted his head toward the front of the house. “Go outside and canoodle with your girl. We’ve got this.”
The old-fashioned term had him laughing, but he always did what his parents told him to. Most of the time. Grabbing Chelsea’s hand, he picked up a light throw blanket and led her onto the porch. The tables they’d used up here for the food had been folded and returned to the cellar, thanks to Rico and James, and now only the bench swing was left.
“Right here, young lady.”
A blush covered her cheeks as she sat down. The sun wouldn’t set for another twenty minutes, so he had some time to focus on the beautiful woman next to him.
Throwing the light blanket over her shoulders, he scooted closer. “My father told us to canoodle.”
“I have no idea what that means,” she said, her face blooming with happiness. Because they were out here together or because his father seemed to approve of her?
