“Scared of my dad? Lord, no. He’s a huge teddy bear. He’d literally give a stranger the shirt off his back. He feeds the homeless and organizes toy drives for needy children.”
I look out the window and see it’s snowing ever so lightly. “I don’t blame him. His dad was a pastor. It’s the only way he’s ever known. It’s just not in my blood to be like him. I mean, I believe in God. And I like to think I’m a good, wholesome person—you know, beyond the occasional cursing and the whole unwed mother thing. But I for sure got more from my mom than I did from him.”
“What does your mom do?”
“She was a housewife.” I huff. “Of course. She died when I was fourteen.”
“My mom’s gone too.”
I don’t offer any apologies. We both know they aren’t needed.
I sip my coffee and watch Carter and Amelia color. It’s hard not to be sad over the fact that this man is the only man to ever color with her. Her own father never did, considering he’s never even met her. Cyrus wouldn’t have been caught dead doing such a thing. And my father… well…
The thought is interrupted when Amelia squeals at the tower of waffle fries put on the table.
“Tell the chef he’s gone above and beyond,” Carter says after a low, appreciative whistle.
“We aim to please,” Serenity says. “The rest of your food will be out shortly.”
I squeeze ketchup onto a small plate and tap Amelia’s hand to get her full attention. “Remember what you promised?”
“No messes.”
She regards the tower of fries, looking for the largest one I’m sure, then proceeds to make her first mess when she pulls it from the center of the pile.
I close my eyes and shake my head. This girl.
Without missing a beat, Carter stacks the upended fries on his own plate, dips one in the ketchup, and pops it into his mouth.
I can tell Amelia really appreciates how he didn’t say anything about her mess. She’s no doubt tired of me asking her to be neat and tidy. But my child could make a mess out of invisible blocks.
“You ever think of going back?” he asks. “Finishing your degree?”
I don’t tell him there’s no point. Instead, I say, “I’ve actually taken a few online courses this past year, but none go toward a degree.”
“Courses in what?”
“Personal finance.”
He arches a brow. “That’s a far stretch from evolutionary science.”
I shrug. “Like I said, I only did that to get under my dad’s skin.”
“Do you still see him? Is he in the city?”
I stare out the window at some dancing snowflakes. “It’s been well over a year. Our relationship is tenuous at best.”
“It was the same for me. I got along with my mom much more than my dad.”
I nod. “Totally.” I can’t help smiling at old memories. “We used to have secret dance parties.”
He stops coloring and waits for more. I can’t figure out why he’s so interested in a stranger’s life, but I figure there’s no harm in passing the time.
“Growing up, I was always jealous of my friend, Tina. Her dad was also a pastor, but he never had a problem with dancing and phones and sweets. It made me defiant toward my own father and his… restrictions.”
“Wait. You weren’t allowed to have sweets?”
“Gluttony is a sin, didn’t you know? It’s prioritizing physical satisfaction above God, and it signifies a failure to control desires.”
