Page 14 of Can’t Let You Go (Ivy Ridge #3)

JASON

I should have left twenty minutes ago, but I can’t stop my gaze from finding Fallon every so often, from checking in on her.

The interaction between us was something I didn’t expect, and it settled like a stone in my gut.

Even though she acts like everything is fine and dandy, it’s not.

She’s going through a lot of what I’m going through.

We’re both doing everything we can to be the best parents for our daughters, and it has to be enough, though sometimes it’s not.

The nights Lennie cries and asks about her mom are some of the worst nights of my life.

It breaks my heart over and over, knowing she yearns for a mother, but will never have one.

I have to be enough for her, and I don’t know that I ever will be.

Drugs took my daughter's mother from her. I would love to be able to tell my daughter her mother was able to put her past behind her, but unfortunately, I can’t.

I have to hope I’m enough for her.

“Go home, boss,” Nora says, pulling my attention from where Fallon is currently being pulled aside by the mother of the groom, again .

I nod, not really acknowledging her words, though.

“Jason,” Laila says with a laugh. I finally pull my gaze from Fallon. “Seriously. We’ve got this. This is no busier than a Saturday night at the brewery, and we’ve got everything we need. If we need you, we’ll give you a call. Go have your Barbie movie night.”

I groan, though really, I look forward to these nights with my daughter, spending one on one time with her, something that doesn’t happen nearly as often as it should with my work schedule. Her movie tastes are not typically my first choice.

“Alright, fine,” I grumble. “But you promise to call me, right?”

Nora holds her hand to her brow in a salute. “Promise.”

I wave at Isaac from the opposite end of the room. Dinner is finishing up, and Lennie’s going to have a late bedtime tonight, but it’s fine. She’s getting older now, so it’s not as big of a deal for her to stay up a little late now and then.

Isaac strides over, a smile on his face. “Heading out?” he asks.

“Yep.”

“Well, I’d say tonight was a success. People loved it, and especially loved having the extra option of beer as well as wine.”

I agree with him, giving a few very minor suggestions on things we can do in the future to improve things even more. We say our goodbyes, and I’m heading out the door before I get sidetracked again. I spare one final look back to Fallon, who is totally sucked into a conversation with someone.

She’s so gorgeous, even though I can tell she’s starting to feel the effects of the day. She’s not standing quite as tall and confident. She lost the heels she was strutting around in earlier, now wearing a pair of black flats.

She must sense my stare, because she turns, catching me as I reach the door.

She offers me a genuine smile and a wave, and I only nod in return.

My face is probably nothing more than a scowl right now, but I don’t have it in me to smile at her.

I’m not in the right headspace to start something with someone.

Being in her space earlier, our faces nearly touching when I was talking to Presley on the phone, taking in her sweet scent was enough to nearly bring me to my knees.

It made me dream of what it would be like to hold her in my arms, and all at once, a fantasy conjured in my mind of holding her in the early morning before our girls woke up.

But that can’t happen. I can’t give anyone but Lennie my focus right now.

Anything else wouldn’t be fair to her, and of all people, Fallon would understand.

Thirty minutes later, I’m pulling onto the street of my childhood home. The sun is still shining, and as I round the final corner, I see the familiar peaks of the roof.

Lennie is in the driveway, her long, dark hair braided over her shoulders and loose strands covering her face.

She’s got a bright pink chalk stick in her palm, and she’s drawing something.

Her bike is toppled on its side in the grass next to the driveway.

My parents, as well as my Gramps, are sitting in their lawn chairs, watching her work.

Marley’s parents, Gabriel and Jane, are also sitting in the driveway with them.

They live next door, and are another set of grandparents to my daughter.

I’m so grateful for all the people I have in my corner.

When she hears my car, Lennie stands, a giant smile taking over her face. I park on the street, getting out of my vehicle and heading over to Lennie. As soon as my feet hit the grass, Lennie is running over to me, arms wide open as she flings herself into me.

“Daddy!” she calls.

“Hey, peanut,” I greet her, lifting her up into my arms, spinning her in a circle. “What are you drawing?”

She talks so fast I can barely catch what she’s saying.

I shift her to my hip as she points down to the driveway, covered in lines and shapes.

“I’m making a town. See, that’s the grocery store and the library, and the road to get to the grocery store.

There’s our house,” she points to an odd shape, and then to another.

“And there’s Grandma and Grandpa’s.” She continues to point.

“Then, I drew Uncle Andrew and Auntie Josie’s house on Grandma Jane and Grampa Gabriel’s driveway, and Auntie Marley and Uncle Beau’s house too. I even drew the babies in their house.”

“Wow,” I say, when she finishes her explanation. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

She nods. “You’re standing on Uncle Thomas’s house.” She points under my feet, where I’m standing on a drawing of a dog, I’m assuming to be Arson. I step off when she gives me a knowing look. She smiles. “Then, I ride my bike on the road I drew, and I get to visit everyone.”

“That’s so cool,” I tell her.

Gramps chuckles. “Did ya catch all that?”

“Think so.” I smirk at my grandfather.

“She’s been running around like a little maniac all day.

Made my back hurt watching her bend over like that,” he says with a grimace, rubbing at his back like the thought of himself trying to do it is too much.

His cane sits in his hands, and he uses it to point to us.

“I don’t know how she still has so much energy.

I had to take two naps today, and she’s still running without one. ”

Lennie wrinkles her nose at her great-grandpa. “You’re old, Gramps. That’s why.”

Gramps jumps in mock aghast, clutching his chest. “You little stinker.”

My daughter laughs wildly. “He snores really loud, Daddy.”

“Yes, he does,” I agree. “He always has.”

“You snore too,” she says matter of factly.

“Yes, I know.” I groan, rolling my eyes.

Gramps cackles. “Maybe you’re getting old too, son.”

I laugh and agree. “Well, should we go? I think we have a few movies waiting for us.”

Lennie drops from my hold to her feet. “Yes!” She runs off, giving all of her grandparents hugs and kisses.

She puts her bike and chalk in the garage, and runs back to me in moments.

It’s nice now that she’s older and we don’t have to worry about diapers, or formula.

My parents also have a few sets of pajamas and clothes at their house.

We say our final goodbyes, and then I’m getting Lennie buckled into her seat and heading toward home. When I pull into the driveway of our home, I let out a deep sigh. It’s been a long day, but it’s good to be home with my girl. Even if I have to watch animated Barbie movies.

“Daddy, can we have sprinkle popcorn?” Lennie’s voice pulls me out of my head. A few months ago, I threw some multi-colored sprinkles on her popcorn for a little extra fun. She loved it, and requests it all the time now.

“You bet,” I reply, unbuckling and climbing out of the vehicle.

I help Lennie get out, and she runs up the front lawn to the front door.

I amble behind her, unlocking the door and flipping on the front entry light.

Our house isn’t anything special, a two-bedroom two-bath with a small room that could be considered an office or an extra bedroom if there was a legal window in it, but it’s used as Lennie’s play area for now.

Lennie runs through the house toward the living room. “I’m ready!” she calls.

I kick off my shoes, hanging up my work backpack on the hook. “First, you need to put on your pajamas and help me make the popcorn,” I call back.

Her footsteps tumble down the hall, and I hear the telltale sounds of her door opening and closing. I head toward my own room, changing out of my dress shirt and into a pair of sweats and a Blue Ox tee. Lennie rushes into my room, a whirlwind of pink and purple.

She has on her favorite princess themed night gown, and her hair is pulled out of the neat braids my mom had put it in. “Daddy, can you fix my hair?”

“I can try,” I tell her. “Why did you take your braids out?”

She huffs. “It got stuck on my shirt when I was taking it off, and then I decided to take the other one out so it would match.”

I hold in my groan. I suck at doing her hair, and I don’t have it in me to ask her to cut it. She always talks about how much she loves her long hair, and for a kid her age, her hair is crazy long. It reminds me so much of her mom’s with how thick and dark it is.

“Go get your brush and ponytails while I start the popcorn, okay kiddo?”

She nods, rushing back to her room. I swear, this kid does everything at a run. Gramps was right, it’s exhausting.

I head into the kitchen, grabbing the microwave popcorn bowl from the cabinet. I get everything I need, throwing the kernels into the bowl, and popping it in the microwave .

“Got it!” Lennie calls as she runs past me in the kitchen.