Her text message strobed through his mind again.
“Sorry about Friday. It won’t happen again.”
What did that mean?
Was she sorry she hadn’t honored their keep-things-casual agreement? Did she regret the toe-tingling kiss itself? And if she’d intended to reassure him the kiss had been a one-off, her attempt had failed. Because the tantalizing notion of another kiss had dominated his thoughts for the past seventy-two hours—foolish as that was.
“Dad!”
At Isabel’s impatient prod, he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “Why are you so anxious for me to invite her?”
“I like her. Gramp likes her. You like her too.” She studied him. “You’re different with Miss Devyn than you were with Mom.”
A subtle alert began to beep in his mind.
“What do you mean?” He straightened the edge of the blanket, keeping his tone conversational.
“I don’t know exactly. It’s just that the air around me feels happy when you talk to her. Like how it feels on Christmas morning, when you know something fun is about to happen. Or like when the sun comes out on a cloudy day and chases away all the shadows and the world is bright and sparkly.”
Gut clenching, he took a long, slow breath.
It appeared his worries about whether Isabel had picked up the strain between him and Olivia hadn’t been unfounded, even if her awareness of it had been subliminal. Since parental tension had been the norm for her, until Devyn entered their orbit she apparently hadn’t realized that not all relationships between a man and woman were fraught with friction.
Maybe the best plan was to be as honest and adult with her as her tender age allowed.
“I know what you mean about Devyn, honey. And I do like her. I wish she was going to stay here forever. But her job is in New York, and after the show, she’s going to go back there. So I don’tthink it’s a good idea for any of us to start to like her too much. If we do, it will hurt more once she goes away.”
His daughter pondered that for a few seconds. “You mean like after Mom went to heaven?”
Not exactly for him, but it was an apt analogy for her.
“Yes.”
“That was hard. I missed her a lot at first.”
“I know—and if we get to be friends with Miss Devyn, you’d miss her too.”
She kneaded the sheet in her fingers, forehead knotting. “I think it’s too late for that, Dad. I’m already going to miss her when she leaves.”
He could relate.
“That’s why we have to be extra careful about spending too much time with her. But you’ll see her at all the show rehearsals.”
“Are you still going to come with me to those?”
“I don’t think so.” He conjured up the semblance of a smile and tapped her nose. “Gramp will be there. You don’t need me.”
She launched herself upright and wrapped her arms around his neck. Held on tight. “I’ll always need you, Dad.”
Throat clogging, he hugged her back. “And I’ll always need you too. But you’ll be fine with Gramp at the rehearsals, won’t you?”
“I ’spose.” She spoke into his neck, a slight quiver in her voice. “If seeing Miss Devyn will make you feel too bad after she leaves, it’s okay for you to stay home.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” He gave her one more squeeze, eased away, and stood. Once she settled back on her pillow, he adjusted the covers. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you and I have tea at the lavender farm on Saturday? Would you like that?”
Her eyes rounded. “But it’s not my birthday. I thought you always said going there was only for special days because it cost a bunch of money?”
“It is and it does, but sometimes you have to make your own special days. And I declare next Saturday to be Daughter’s Day.”
