“Can I be done?” she asked.
Damn, how long had he been zoned out? Tabby wasn’t a fast eater. He looked down at her plate, and sure enough, she was pretty much done. He’d put the rest in Rocco’s bowl.
He nodded.
Tabby hopped off the chair. As she jumped down, he noticed that the leggings on her pajama bottoms were crawling up her calf. She’d hit another growth spurt.
The past five years had gone by in a flash but also felt like an eternity. It was true what they said: the days were long, but the years were short. Tabby had been colicky, and for the first nine months Deacon was convinced he’d never sleep again. He was also certain he was failing miserably as a father. He’d been sure Tabby needed her mom, and that since she was gone, he was a very distant consolation prize.
Kristen might not have been the love of his life, but she would have been a fucking incredible mom. That’s what she’d been born to be. To this day it killed him that she’d never gotten to see just how amazing their little girl was, that she never got to hold her, to kiss her, to love her.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Tabby peeked up over the couch, her tiny brow furrowing. “Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad.” How did she always know, even when her back was to him? That girl did not miss anything.
His phone rang, he looked down and saw it was Poppy.
“Can I watchEnchanted?” Tabby asked.
“Sure.” Deacon was a pushover. He’d told himself he was going to be strong and tell her no if she asked forEnchantedtoday, but those eyes did something to him.
“Alexa, turn on TV and playEnchanted,” Tabby instructed.
The TV turned on, and he answered the phone. “Hey.”
“Hey!” Her voice was several octaves higher than it usually was. “Hi, so um, yeah, I don’t quite know how to say this. I was at AJ’s yesterday, and he was changing and, um, yeah, I saw a text you sent him.”
“Oh fuck.”
Deacon had sent AJ a text thanking him for giving him time to tell Poppy and the others on his own. He never thought about the fact that Poppy might see it. For being sosmart, which, objectively, he was considered to have a very high IQ, he could also be really stupid.
“That’s a ten-dollar word, Daddy.”
“Yep, you’re right, it sure is,” Deacon agreed with his daughter.
Deacon had a really hard time not swearing, so he figured he might as well do some good with it. He put Tabby in charge of keeping track of all the money he had to put in the “swear bank,” and then they chose a charity every month to donate the “swear bank” to. The month after his one-night stand, the Seattle Humane Society got averylarge donation. He was dropping F bombs like they were going out of style.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Poppy. It wasn’t personal. I just needed?—”
“I think I get it,” she interjected. “If I had more money than God, I would be worried about what people I let into my life.”
“I understand if you’re upset, and I’m going to tell Liam and Phoebe?—”
“Oh, um, everyone knows.”
“They do?”
“Yeah, I got mad at AJ for not telling me and?—”
“That was my fault. I wanted to?—”
“It doesn’t matter,” she cut him off. “I came over to Liam’s, and then we called a family meeting.”
“Fuck.” Deacon ran his hands through his hair.
“Ten dollars, Daddy!”
“Yep, marked it down.” He hadn’t, but he’d remember. Or he’d just put a hundred in and call it even.
