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“What are you drawing?” I ask, crouching next to her.
“A picture.”
“What kind of picture?” I smile.
“On how to catch a man,” she says innocently.
My smile drops away.
“Miss Tasha said it’s easy.” Regan’s tone is that matter-of-fact hum that kids always have. “She said you have to wear a red dress and show off your body—”
“Okay.” I slide the paper from under her. “I think I’ll need to have a talk with Miss Tasha about what she’s saying around you.”
“But I asked her.”
“You did?” I run my hand over her braids. “Why, baby?”
“So I could help you.”
Shock washes over me. “Help me?”
“Yeah, help you marry my dad.”
I blink and blink and blink, but my brain seems to have stopped working.
Regan beams up at me. “I think you should be my new mommy.”
If I blink anymore, I might blow off all my eyelashes.
“Sweetie,” I pull Regan out of her mini-chair and into my lap, “I’m really flattered, but adult relationships are a little more complicated than that.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.” I insist. “Even if I try your plan, your daddy might not like me.”
“Why?”
“Because he might not want anyone but your mommy.”
I think about Clay’s broken voice when he mentioned his late wife. In his eyes, I saw a love that would never putter out. Even if he tried again, it wouldn’t be a whole and untainted kind of love. The ghost of his wife would always be present.
“Jessica has another mommy. I want one too,” Regan croaks.
My heart melts and I squeeze her to me. Pressing a kiss to her precious cheek, I say, “I will always be your friend. How about that?”
She scrunches her nose.
“Oh, you don’t like that? Am I not good enough to be your friend?” I tickle her little stomach until she’s roaring with laughter.
Just then, my phone rings.
“Hey,” Clay says in a rushed voice, “this strategy meeting will take a bit longer. I don’t think I can drive down to pick up Regan right now.”
“It’s okay.”
There’s a lot of chatter in the background. Whatever’s going on sounds urgent.
“How about this? I’ll ask my brother to pick her up,” Clay says.