Page 102 of Never Let You Go

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just a kid.”

She’s funny as hell, and at the same time, there is something so mature about her that breaks my heart. I reach across the table to wipe a dollop of gooey maple butter off the tip of her nose. “You already know it’s wrong. But, in case you forgot, your belly is going to remind you of it. Come here, sweetie. Here’s what we can do.” I take her hand and lead her to the countertop where the grocery list sits. “Just write down Maple butter right there. Put a little heart next to it, for extra points.”

She stands on the tip of her toes and sticks her tongue out as she forms her letters. I ruffle her hair when she’s done, then pour her a glass of apple cider. She puts her hand in mine, and we go back to the kitchen table. She snuggles on my lap. Her unruly hair tickles my nose, and I comb it with my fingers.

She grabs my phone. “What were you looking at, earlier? Bad news?”

“Something I didn’t quite think through.”

She brings the phone level to my face so it unlocks, then goes through my pictures. “Are you going to need a lawyer?”

I’m taken aback. “Aren’t you a little young to know about lawyers?”

“Daddy always says we’re not in real trouble until we need a lawyer.”

“That’s very true.”

She nods pensively. “So, you’re going to watch how this turns out for you?” she says, repeating the expression I used earlier.

This kid. “I’ll figure it out,” I say and kiss the top of her head. Although my financial situation just got a little trickier, a weight has lifted. I’m done doing things to try and please someone who doesn’t deserve it. From now on, the things I do, I’ll do for me, for what I believe in.

It’s liberating.

Skye snaps a selfie of both of us, but it comes out blurry. I show her how to focus, and she tries, again. “Let’s save that one.”

“Can I have it?” she asks.

“Sure. I’ll email it to your daddy. You’ll just need to ask him to print it.”

“Silly face, now,” she says, and we push out our tongues. I cross my eyes, and she laughs hysterically, imitating me and taking a slew of photos. I show her how to edit them, then email a couple more to Christopher’s address.

“Hey there.”

We both look up as Christopher materializes in front of us. He’s leaning against the door frame, his head tilted to the side, his thick hair all mussed up. The top buttons of his flannel shirt are opened, revealing his dark chest, the sleeves rolled up on his muscular forearms. His faded jeans hang low on his hips, his leather belt loosely fastened.

“Hey,” I answer.

Half a smile floats on his lips, his eyes are fixed on mine as Skye snaps a photo of him.

“Daddy, make a face!” With his hand splayed across his face, he makes a piggy face, duly captured by Skye on my phone.

“Can we please delete this, now?” he asks, coming into the kitchen while Skye continues to snap photos of him.

“Absolutely not,” I object, to Skye’s delight.

He frowns, but his lips curl up as he reaches over to peck Skye on the forehead. He smells of soap and something earthy. Skye wraps her arms around his neck and latches onto him, and as he picks her up in his arms, the back of his hand brushes against my breast. I feel myself blushing and straighten in my chair.

“Guess what?” Christopher asks, his eyes between Skye and me.

“Whaaat?” Skye shrieks, beaming at good news she hasn’t even heard yet.

“Lynn and Craig are back from their cruise.”

Skye shrieks louder and applauds. “Can we go tonight?”

“Not tonight, but soon,” he says, his eyes darting between the two of us. “Lynn and Craig are the owners of King’s Knoll Farm.”

“Oh right,” I say, happy I’m starting to know who is who in Emerald Creek. “Justin and Haley’s parents?”

---