Page 40

“Are you trying to get me ready quickly?” I asked, taking the drink and pulling her in for a hug against my stomach.
“I’m just excited. You said we could shop for Thanksgiving today to avoid all the jokers shopping last minute,” she giggled against my stomach, as she quoted me before pulling back. “I made that myself. Do you like it?”
“Did you? Let me see.” I took a performative sip, holding back a wince as the weakest and sweetest coffee I’d ever had in my life passed through my lips. “So delicious,” I told her with a big smile.
Corinne hopped up and down and said, “Let’s go, Daddy, let’s go. Are you ready?”
“Are you?” I asked, eyeing her mix and match shoes.
“Yes!”
“You want to check again?” I pointed at her feet, and she facepalmed dramatically, running off to the front of the house.
“Okay, Daddy, I’m ready!” I grinned as I walked to the kitchen to set the coffee down on the counter, hoping she’d forget all about it.
I loved it when she called me Daddy. I knew I didn’t have many more years of that, and I cherished every one left. It reminded me that I belonged to someone, that I mattered, which some days I needed desperately. Especially today, after what I’d donewith Delia, how I’d hurt her, and how I’d betrayed Jeremy, I needed that even more.
I walked over to the front door and found Corinne with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot impatiently. I put my hands on my hips and said, “Well, let me see, are your shoes matching?”
She burst into laughter, the earlier sour mood over missing her crush, Benny, apparently forgotten in the excitement.
“Yes!” she squealed, holding up one of her legs.
“Teeth brushed?”
“Yes!”
“Okay, let’s go.” I hugged her once more before we walked out.
The plan for today was to go buy some baked goods. This holiday was going to be spent at the soup kitchen. We didn’t have any family left between the two of us, and so we spent our holidays giving back. It was an easy way to raise her spirits at a time that I knew could be lonely for someone who had lost a loved one. And I wanted my daughter to see how fortunate we were.
The only catch was that we couldn’t cook. I had never really gotten good at it, so we were going to buy them, put them in some fancy containers, and pass them off as our own. Some might call it lying. I called it embellishment.
Corinne didn’t care either way. She was just excited to buy desserts.
It was nice to see how simple she still was. Being eleven was such a good age. She didn’t have any angst yet, and it was still fun to do things with her old man.
When we got to the grocery store, Corinne instantly started running to the dessert section, and I called after her, “Corinne, sweetie, no running in the store!”
She slowed down and decided, instead, to speed walk. I shook my head, laughing, and kept my regular pace. I was sure I’d catch up to her to find her with her arms full.
When I finally caught up to my daughter, I found her just as I’d expected, in the dessert aisle with desserts piled up on top of each other in her arms.
I approached her with the cart.
“Need a little help there?” My voice carried the hint of amusement I couldn’t hide.
“I only picked out the most important.” She grinned bashfully, carefully setting them down into the cart.
“Let me see,” I pretended to scrutinize the selection as I ran my hand over my jaw. “Cheesecake, pumpkin pie, angel food cake, apple pie… no fruitcake?”
“Daddy,” Corinne responded seriously, her tone bordering on disbelief, as though I’d just suggested something mortally wrong. With her hand on her hip, she lowered her blonde eyebrows at me and tsked.
“What?” I asked, holding my hands up in mock innocence. “What’s wrong with fruitcake?”
“A cake with fruit and nuts? Seriously? You need me to tell you?” Her tone was dripping with exaggerated incredulity.
“Guess that’s a no then…” I said with a shrug. “Fine, let’s go, since you have it all figured out.”