Page 16 of Firefly Effect

“Eww, Daddy.” She wrinkles her nose and looks at her hands like they’ve turned into aliens. “Sticky-icky.”

Letting out a dinosaur roar, I scoop her up. “Who are you calling sticky-icky?”

I give her a quick bop on the nose, making her giggle, then I take her back into her bedroom to get her dressed for the day. I lay out three of her favorite outfits, all dresses with leggings, and she instantly goes for the yellow one with white flowers on them.

“Great choice.”

After Lucy’s all dressed with her hair brushed, we race into the kitchen. I pick her up to set her in her booster seat then turn on the speaker to play her favorite playlist, filled with kids singing the hottest current hits. Pulling down three different cereal boxes from the pantry, I set them on the table. “Take your pick, Lucy Goosey.”

She giggles, just like she does any time I call her any one of her nicknames. “You’re a silly goose, Daddy.”

I gasp and lean over to tickle her side. “I’m a what?”

She squeals out her laughter. “A silly goose!” she tries to say between giggles.

Releasing her, I reach for a box of cereal, pull out the plastic bag inside, then stretch the box over my head to wear it like a hat. “What about now? Am I still a silly goose?”

Lucy explodes into the type of infectious belly laughter I find myself living for these days. In an effort to keep Lucy fully entertained, I do a ridiculous dance around the kitchen while I grab a bowl and the milk before finally placing it all in front of Lucy.

But instead of eating, she reaches her hands in the air. “Dance with me, Daddy!”

Pulling her out of her seat, I take her little hands in mine and spin her around the room, complimenting her intricate stomp-like dance moves as she tries to keep up with the beat. On the final note of the song, I support Lucy’s back while I dip her, nearly forgetting that she was an all-star in gymnastics last year. She bends back so far that her hair sweeps the ground, causing me to laugh.

Someone clears her throat, causing me to look over to the back door of the kitchen. Francine has a joyful expression on her face as she stares adoringly at her granddaughter, while Evie looks like she’s trying to hold back a smile—and failing.

Lucy runs up to Francine and pulls her into the kitchen. “Gammy, dance!”

As the two of them start bopping around the kitchen, I take the opportunity to step over to Evie and say what I should have said when she initially arrived. “Hi.”

Evie smiles fully, a twinkle of amusement never leaving her eyes. “Hi.” Her focus rises to my head while mine drops to her mouth.

She gently licks her bottom lip before biting down on it. “My favorite.”

There’s a kick in my chest at her words, and for a second, I think she’s somehow referring to me being her favorite.

Then her arms raise to lift the cereal box off my head. “Lucky Charms,” she adds, confirming that I’m an absolute idiot. “Lucy has good taste.”

“Actually,” I say, taking the box. “Those are my favorite. Lucy happens to like Cheerios better.”

Evie’s jaw drops in mock astonishment. “Nobody likes Cheerios better than Lucky Charms.”

“She’s three.” I wink. “Give her time.” We share a grin, brief but memorable all the same. “I happen to have enough Lucky Charms to share if you’d like to stay for breakfast.” As soon as the invite leaves my mouth, I worry it’s too much too soon. “Unless you have to be somewhere.”

Evie opens and then closes her mouth, clearly conflicted. “Actually, I should go. It’s our monthly staff meeting at Firefly, and with Patrick gone, it’s mine to lead.”

“So, you’re running the show, huh? Between the bar and the rental properties, you’re a busy woman.”

She shrugs. “Nothing I’m not used to. Patrick loves his vacations, and I basically run the bar as it is already. Eventually, he’ll hand it over to me, but the Firefly’s been his baby for nearly twenty years. He’s not ready to let it go just yet.”

“Is that what you want?” My eyes search hers. “To own the bar?”

Her wistful smile catches me off guard. I get glimpses of depth in Evelyn Vaughn with each conversation, but it’s a depth I’m not sure she’s explored yet.

“It’s always been more about the books for me than it is the bar,” she says, and somehow it feels like she just confessed one of her deepest, darkest secrets. Like she’s never said those same words aloud to anyone else.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking—me hoping there’s some part of her that feels comfortable to open up just a little bit more.

Before I can ponder that thought further, Evie excuses herself from the kitchen, saying goodbye to Lucy, Francine, then me and heads toward the front door like she’s in some kind of hurry. I’m drawn to her like the opposite pole of a magnet, following her to the front drive, searching for something to say as if I don’t want her to leave.

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