Page 78 of Free to Fall

“Green. The color of Daddy’s room is green.”

Like his eyes? I wonder, but I don’t say that aloud. Instead, I keep silent when Em proclaims, “Then let’s go out to my van to pick some green fabric.”

Bailey’s gaze flits between the two of us. “How will I know if it’s right?”

I think back to all the gifts of pottery, drawings, and bracelets I’ve made for my father over the years that he’s displayed proudly. I give her the truth. “How could it be wrong if it’s coming from you and made with love?”

Bailey beams and Emily nods her approval. The three of us make our way to Emily’s van parked in Liam’s driveway to pick the green Bailey likes best from the selection Emily brought with her.

“Does your father have any special nicknames for you, Bailey?” Emily casually asks.

“Buttercup.” Bailey goes on to explain what she and her father do in the park with the buttercups that blossom all over the fields in Connecticut.

“Hmm. What would you think if I did this?” Emily pulls out a notebook and sketches a simple flower that no one would mistake for anything but a buttercup.

Bailey frowns. “Do you draw it on the pillow with crayons or markers?”

Emily’s smile blooms as bright as the yellow flowers. I interject, “I think she means she’ll stitch it on, Bailey.”

“Using a needle? But won’t that take a long time?”

Emily picks up a piece of light wool that caught my eye earlier. I had been debating asking Emily if she’d make a dress for Bailey, but this has so much more meaning. A little girl will grow out of an Emily Freeman Original, but a father will never let go of a pillow that reminds him of his little girl.

Never.

Not if he loves her the way my father claims he does.

Emily quickly threads her machine with green thread shades darker than the material and gets to work. All the while, she entertains us by chatting about her granddaughter Hannah’s latest exploits. Hannah was the first grandchild born in any branch of our family tree. Now fourteen, she laughingly jokes, “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. A doctor, a lawyer, or chief executive officer—like Aunt Cass.”

“Do you know what you want to be when you grow up, Bailey?” I ask.

Her brows pucker before she gives an answer that has Em discreetly wiping her eyes before she focuses on her embroidery. It’s the best answer of all. “Happy. I want to be happy.”

My own voice raspy, I acknowledge her plans. “Excellent. After all, why would you want to be anything else?”

“Exactly.”

After lifting her foot off the pedal, Emily’s navy blue eyes catch mine. In them, I find approval for the lessons I’m imparting to Bailey, but there is lingering worry for me. After all, like the rest of our family, she knows the hardest emotions to recover from are the ones we treasure the most—the basic human right to safety and trust.

Chapter

Forty-One

“That was Laura?” I ask Caleb.

He lays his cell phone down before gesturing for me to sit. “You overheard everything I said.”

“I did.”

“Then you should also know my daughter’s question to me was, ‘Does Liam Payne love his daughter?’” Before I can fly off the handle between the hurt and betrayal coursing through my veins, Caleb lifts his hand and pins me into my seat with his tiger’s eyes. “Her voice was breaking when she asked. That leads me to believe Bailey said something in casual conversation to Laura that has her protective instincts in an uproar.”

Goddamn you, Ashleigh, I think not for the first time in the last two years. Even as my blood pressure drops with regard to Laura’s curiosity, I have to admit it springs from a place of caring. Unlike Bailey’s bitch of a mother.

My senses have been telling me something is going on with Bailey for a while, but even my constant love and sessions with Alice haven’t been able to inveigle it. If Laura managed to, I’m not certain what I’m going to do—punch a wall or kiss her.

Maybe both.

Caleb speaks. I tune back in to listen. “She’s not jumping to any sort of conclusion. All she wanted to know was if Bailey was loved. If she knows you love your daughter the way I love mine, she doesn’t need the gritty details.”

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