“Girls look healthy.”
Bliss’s lips twitched. “They are.”
Silence stretched.
Connor finally said bluntly, “I overheard your conversation.”
Bliss shrugged her shoulders. “I figured.”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“That you’re having a hard time handling everything by yourself.”
She looked down at her tea. “I feel like a total failure.”
Connor put his hand on her arm. “You’re not a failure. I don’t want to hear you say anything like that about yourself again. You are doing the best you can, and a damn sight better than most.”
Glancing at Sadie and Sophie, she whispered, “Language. That’s a nickel for the swear jar.”
A sharp voice cut in. “Well. Isn’t this cozy?”
Connor turned to see Sandra standing beside the table, her expression tight. Her hand landed possessively on Connor’s shoulder, making Bliss flinch.
Connor immediately shrugged Sandra’s hand off. “What do you want?”
Sandra blinked. “You used to like it when I was a brat. I always loved it when you punished me.”
“There’s a difference between being a brat,” Connor said coldly, “and being a bitch.”
Her jaw dropped for a second, but she recovered. Pasting her smile back in place, she said in a sing-song voice, “Whatever you say, Daddy.”
“That has been over for a long time,” he replied. “I’m trying to have a private conversation.”
“I heard.” No longer smiling, she turned to Bliss, putting on an exaggerated expression of concern. You might want to lower your voice, sweetie. But I get it, I mean, you don’t want everyone to know that you’re unable to care for your kids properly, right, Bliss?”
Connor slammed his hand on the table and stood. “That’s enough.”
The entire café went quiet. Sandra stared at him. “You’re taking her side?”
Was she crazy? “Of course I’m taking Bliss’s side. What you said was inexcusable, not to mention dead wrong. I want you to leave. Now.”
Her face twisted, and she shot Bliss a venomous glare. Without another word, she spun on her three inch heel and stormed out. The bell over the door jingled violently behind her.
Connor exhaled slowly, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.”
Bliss stared at the table. “It’s not your fault. You owe the swear jar another fifteen cents.”
He stared at her for half a second, then tilted his head back and laughed. This Little girl was perfect. “Swear jar, huh? Put it on my tab. And just so you know, she’s not right.”
Bliss’s voice was small when she answered. She dropped her gaze to the table and began to shred her napkin. “Maybe she is.”
Leaning forward, Connor tilted her face up to look at him. “Hey, you’re doing a good job.” Her eyes filled with tears, but he pressed on. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t need help.”
She looked back down as soon as he moved his hand. “Don’t you think I’d have that if I could afford to hire someone?”
“I didn’t say hire someone.”
