Page 12

Chapter Eleven

David

A loud squeaking noise greets me as I walk through the front door. Ava’s flight left for LA this morning, so Duncan has been babysitting this afternoon. Scanning the room, I scrub my face, and a burst of uncontrollable laughter pulls from me.

Bending down, I pick up the stuffed purple dragon I stepped on and give it a squeeze. I hang up my duffel bag on a coat hook. I need to make sure Emmy doesn’t have an opportunity to put another hole in a pocket.

“Daddy!” Scarlett comes running from the kitchen with Emmy close at her heels. Scarlett leaps into my arms, and Emmy sits staring at me expectantly, tail wagging slightly. Handing Emmy the toy, she runs off, a high-pitched squeak echoing throughout the house. “Uncle Dunky is making dinner.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m starving.” I nuzzle my chin on her neck, delighted at the squeals it elicits.

“Daddy, Daddy, stop!” Her giggles draw Emmy, who wants in on the fun, and barking fills the house. The combination of laughter and excitement causes a lightness to spread across my chest. And for the first time in a week, I’m not regretting my decision to honor Fiona’s wishes.

Looking around the room, a sinking feeling settles in my stomach as I take in the mess. Ava is amazing at keeping everything in order. Duncan? Not so much.

But beggars can’t be choosers, and I am grateful for his help. I begin picking up the toys and dropping them into Emmy’s toy bin while Scarlett hangs on like a spider monkey.

Yes, the dog has her own basket, but if the current overflow is any indication, we'll need a bigger one.

“Emmy,” Duncan yells from the kitchen, immediately quieting the hound who sprints away.

“Uncle Dunky has been trying different recipes,” my daughter says proudly as she looks toward the front of the house. “He said she isn’t the best taste-tester because she eats everything.”

“Is that so?” I ask, putting her down and moving the toy bin from the middle of the room, where someone could trip over it. By someone, I mean me.

“Yeah.” She leads me to the kitchen, where my brother pulls out the baking trays with squash, broccoli, and bell peppers. On the stove is a tray of breaded chicken.

A grin slides across my face at the purple apron he’s wearing, and a huff of laughter ripples through me.

“Doesn’t your daughter have great taste?” He asks, pointing to the message on the apron. It has a custom photo of Duncan’s head on top of a cartoon body standing in front of a grill with the words, ‘Mr. Good Lookin’ Is Cookin’.”

Duncan’s mouth twitches. “You’re a better man than me,” I murmur.

“Not true,” he laughs. “Ava sent me the picture of you in your fuzzy pink slippers with bunny ears. You were sleeping on the couch, your feet resting on the table.”

Heat creeps up the back of my neck, and laughter explodes out of me. “Have I told you how much I hate that I don’t have secrets from you anymore?”

“Oh, we have secrets,” Duncan winks, and I roll my eyes.

Having your brother married to your best friend sounds a lot better in theory than it is in real life. My stomach growls, which is ironic since seconds before it turned sour. “Anything I can do to get dinner on the table faster?”

“Do you want to tell your dad what he can help with, Red?” Duncan asks Scarlett as he places the tray of vegetables next to the chicken before turning off the oven. Reaching into the cabinet, he pulls down a serving plate.

“Daddy,” Scarlett points to the pile of dishes and silverware on the counter. “Can you set the table?”

My lungs expand at the same time an ache hits my heart. My little girl is growing up so fast, and her mom is missing it.

Fiona would’ve loved every minute of the person Scarlett is growing up to be. She would have especially enjoyed the sass.

Grabbing the pile, I head into the dining room, letting my thoughts float back to dinner when Scarlett was in a high chair and Fiona was still here.

A deep ache stabs me. I feel a nudge against the top of my thigh and look down to find deep brown eyes staring back at me. Warmth surprisingly fills my chest.

“Hey, girl,” I whisper to Emmy, running my hand over her head. I don’t think I’ve noticed before how soft she is. “I’m okay. Just remembering some days gone by.”

She lets out a couple of barks before running to pick up and squeak one of her many toys that I didn’t pick up, scattered around the room. This one looks and sounds like a pig. I huff out a chuckle and get back to setting the table.

“Soooo,” Duncan’s teasing tone fills the room as he walks into the dining room. A tightness gripping my shoulder blades. “ Tea Time , huh?”

“It’s all your fault,” I grumble. “If you and Ava weren’t a thing, I’d still be off the grid living my quiet, boring, baseball life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So who’s the ‘mystery woman’?” He asks, placing the two serving plates in the middle of the table.

“She’s just someone I work with,” I mumble. “Who also happens to be our old next-door neighbor.”

“Neighbor?” Duncan’s eyes narrow, and his head tilts before his brows shoot up. “Waiiiiiiiitt! I think I remember her.”

Pretending that what he’s saying isn’t causing my heart to gallop around my body, I continue to set the table. Oinks echo in the background.

“That’s her,” I say, trying to act nonchalant. “Cat Bailey.”

“Didn’t you have the biggest crush on her?” My cheeks heat, and Duncan gives me one of his rare toothy grins. “Oh wow! Ava is going to love this bit of the story even more.”

My heart sinks to my stomach, and a wave of nausea washes over me. A hand firmly grips my shoulder.

“You deserve to be happy.” Duncan says, firmly meeting my gaze. “Fiona would want you to find someone to share your life with.”

I stiffly nod, having trouble reconciling the guilt mixed with the longing.

“She would also love the symbolism of it all.” His lip lifts at the corner. “Scarlett, please take that toy from Emmy and come to the table.”

“Be right there,” Scarlett yells from the kitchen. “I’m getting Emmy’s dinner ready.”

Emmy drops the toy and darts toward the kitchen.

Wide-eyed, I glance at Duncan, who is shaking his head. “Is it just me—”

“Or does that dog understand English?” I nod. “It’s not just you.” Duncan snickers, taking a seat at the table.

Heading back to the kitchen, I pull a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge and grab a few glasses from the cabinet.

Scarlett’s radiant smile sends a shot of warmth straight to my heart. She looks more like Fiona every day.

“I’ll take that, Daddy.” She holds out her hands, waiting for the pitcher of iced tea.

Handing it over to her, a lopsided grin crosses my face. “Thank you.”

For a moment, a flash of the woman my daughter is on her way to becoming flits across my mind, and I’m overcome with love. At almost that exact moment, a tan blur runs past me and takes her place under the table.

A wry grin lifts my mouth. I’m certain Scarlett is sneaking Emmy some of her dinner despite my stern warnings.

Shaking my head, I grab the glasses and head to the table.

“Daddy, when are we going to see Cat again? Emmy misses her.” I feel Duncan’s gaze on me but don’t dare look up to the gleam that’s sure to be there.

“I don’t know,” I say, without looking at her. “I’d have to check and see.”

“You can ask her at work tomorrow, right?” Duncan’s voice dances with humor, and I send a glare his way.

“Hey!” Scarlett’s fork stops mid-air as she gives me one of her new ‘I’m disappointed in you’ looks. “You didn’t tell me she works with you.”

Squeezing the back of my neck, feeling duly chastised, I shrug. “I’m sorry, guess I forgot.”

“How could you forget?” She whines.

“Yeah,” Duncan laughs. “How could you forget, David?”

My phone buzzes and I pull it from my pocket. Grabbing it like a lifeline. My heart leaps at the name staring back at me.

“Looks like he can ask now,” Duncan teases. When I throw a scowl his way, he chuckles before sticking a forkful of chicken in his mouth and chewing dramatically.

Cat:

Would you be available to meet up a little later?

“Is that her?” Scarlett asks excitedly, just as my phone buzzes again.

“Yes,” I answer, not dragging my eyes from the screen.

Cat:

I talked with Finn. I think I have a good game plan, but want to run it by you first.

I know it’s short notice, so if that doesn’t work, we can figure something else out.

Just need to get this started ASAP.

My heart hammers against my ribcage, and without thinking, I respond.

David:

I’m in the middle of dinner, but I think Duncan can watch Scarlett for me.

“I can watch them,” Duncan says as if reading my mind.

“Emmy and I want to come,” Scarlett whines.

“Not today, honey. Cat and I have some work to do. But I promise to ask when she’ll have time to stop by.”

Duncan snorts, and my face heats.

David:

Duncan is available.

Where do you want to meet?

“Fine,” Scarlett pouts. “But you’ll have to take a picture of us for her.”

Rubbing the top of her head, I grin. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“Daddy! You’re messing up my hair!” Scarlett yells, methodically running her hands over the hair I mussed up.

My eyes pop open, and Duncan snorts out a laugh. When I turn my shocked stare to him, he shrugs before mouthing. “It’s starting.”

When I groan, he bursts out laughing.

“What do you want to do while your dad is out…working, Scarlett?”

Their conversation fades to the background as my phone buzzes again.

Cat:

How is Maple Grove Park?

I’m going to stop for a cup of tea at the coffee shop close by, do you want anything?

David:

Tea sounds like a great idea.

Why don’t I meet you at the shop at six?

Cat:

Great! See you then.

Oh! Take a picture of Scarlett and Emmy for me.

My lip lifts at the corner, and a strange lightness fills me before that heavy ache returns.

Why do feelings have to be so complicated?