Solo closed the fridge door and faced him again. “She told me she was talking to some guy at work, and?—”
“Talking?” he asked, clearly unimpressed. “Since when is talking synonymous with cheating?”
“It isn’t…exactly. It’s what people do before they start dating.”
His frown deepened. “Says who?”
She waved his question away. “It doesn’t matter. She said they were just friends, but I’d already messed up. Janie always walks away when I get angry.”
“Can’t she handle the conflict?” He chuckled lightly. “She must be a helluva lawyer.”
“Don’t.” Solo gripped the counter and tried the box breathing Rae had shown her. “You know how hard it is to talk to me when I’m angry.”
He grunted and nodded. “You’re right there. Maybe she did the right thing by walking away before you said something even more stupid.”
“Exactly.” She poured juice for them and put the bottle away. “I guess I just had some stupid idea that we were gonna talk all night, and she was going to remember that she loved me, that she loved our life. And then she’d come home, back to me, andback to our babies.” She smacked her palm against her forehead a couple of times.
“Hey, stop that.” Her dad grabbed her wrist. “Knocking your brainbox around isn’t going to solve a thing, slugger.”
“I want things to go back to the way they were,” Solo said then shrugged. “I need her to give me another chance to be the partner she deserves.”
Her dad smiled and released her hand. “It isn’t me who needs to hear that,” he said gently.
Solo sagged against the sink. “I know. But what if she won’t see me again? What if I’ve blown my one chance?”
“Don’t think of last night like that,” he said. “But don’t waste time either.” Sadness darkened his eyes, and he shook his head slowly. “I thought your momma and I had all the time in the world.” He swallowed and turned back to making their sandwiches. “But we didn’t.”
Her dad’s words struck like a gut punch, and she sucked in a long breath, determined to move past the grief. “Did you and Mom ever have any problems?”
“Of course we did.” Her dad chuckled. “She didn’t just raise you and your brother; she raised me too. It took her a few years to whip me into shape.” He sliced the sandwiches in half, then leaned against the counter. “Did you know she wouldn’t have children with me until she decided I was ready to be a good dad?”
Solo frowned. “She wouldn’t?”
He shook his head and smiled widely. “God knows why she decided I’d be worth it in the end, but I’m sure glad she picked me.”
Her dad’s smile touched her own mood, and she joined him. “I always thought you were just enjoying a few years together before you got tied down with kids.”
“I guess there was a little of that too.” He inclined his head. “But primarily, she was training me to be a dad and not just a father.”
Tia bumped into the cabinet beside Solo and looked up at her expectantly. “Mama food.”
Solo laughed. “Mama, food or Mama food?”
Tia’s brow furrowed deep, making her look comically angry. “Food,” she said, sounding more than a little disgruntled that she’d been forced to repeat herself.
Solo raised her hands. “Okay, okay. It’s coming.” She pushed away from the sink and quickly prepared three plates of cottage cheese with carrot and cucumber sticks. Then she and her dad transferred the triplets from their walkers to their highchairs in the dining room. She glanced at the wall they planned to repaint that afternoon, and a mixture of pride and sadness fought for her attention. She’d sent photos of Tia’s masterpiece to Janie’s phone, but they didn’t really give the artwork real scale. Solo would’ve given anything for Janie not just to have seen it but to have been there while Tia was creating it. Maybe she should just leave it another week. Janie would want to visit the girls soon, wouldn’t she?
“I’m looking forward to painting that with you,” her dad said as he stood in the doorway. “It’ll be just like when you were a teenager, and you used to help me with all the decorating.”
Solo put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Remember how Mom used to insist we stopped on the hour, every hour to stay hydrated?”
Her dad nodded. “Is that what Janie does for you?”
“Nope. We painted this whole house together.” Solo grinned at some memories she couldn’t share with her dad about rooms that were partly painted with their bodies. God, she missed Janie. It was like those images had faded to make room for their kids, but surely it didn’t have to be that way.
“Really?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Really,” she said and tsked. “Janie’s great with a roller. I did all the cutting in, and she painted great swathes of the walls.”
