Page 27 of Prospect Year

“Yes,” he laughed, “can you do it?”

Her shoulders lifted, but her nod told him she would do her best, which was good enough for him.

With a squeal, Amber shot to her feet. “I’ll go get what we need. Who’s going with me?” She glanced to each of them.

“Looks like a shopping trip,” Lola announced. “This should be interesting.”

***

Lola stood in front of his bathroom mirror and stared into the frame only to see someone else stare back. The face he had seen weeks ago posted on the wall of the Burger Hut where he had been enlightened looked back at him. The face, the hair, even the manner of his stance screamed Mac. At least he knew now that he was not a bad reminder as he had once feared, but a peaceful reminder of life’s most precious times as his mother would often assure him.

No more fighting it. There was no more doubt they were a part of each other. Time would only tell when having his father in his life would take root. But fighting was exhausting, and dealing with the demands of prospecting was demanding enough. He switched off the light and fell into bed.

Chapter 13

“All finished,” Lola told Mia.

He had strolled along beside her the evening before as she decided the perfect place for a swing. She had chosen an open area under the large canopy of a single tree. A spot he agreed with. It was near enough to the house for viewing and distant enough for conversational privacy.

He turned toward her and became lost in the simple pure excitement that her eyes held. Large, round, and focused on the sturdy A-frame Lola had assembled early this morning. He imagined a little squeal sounding in her brain as she hurried to the swing chairs spread out on the ground.

She gathered the ropes in one hand and slung the rigid hoop over her shoulder and carried it to him. As he hung up the first one, she returned with the second seat. The instant the second swing dangled from the hooks, she tossed the cushions she had picked out into the seats and climbed into one of them.

It appeared a perfect fit. Lola stepped back taking in the look of pride she had in the finished product she had made with her own hands. She pushed against the ground with her toe and leaned back, appearing satisfied with her accomplishment.

He reached out and grabbed her foot, sending her swinging higher. He had no idea her face could become any brighter than it had been, but it did. The delight in her face was breathtaking.

She motioned toward the other swing.

“You need to try both swings?” he asked with a grin.

He chuckled as she rolled her eyes. With a shake of her head, she pointed to him then to the empty seat next to her.

“I only agreed to hang them, not get my ass thrown on the ground trying one out.”

She narrowed her eyes toward him.

He barked a laugh. “I’m sure I’m glad you can’t tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

Her face twisted, but he caught the glint of humor in her eyes.

He eased onto the edge of the seat, keeping his feet firmly on the ground holding him still. He opened his mouth to shoot her another tease.

“Are these the chairs you have been working on?” a silky female voice asked.

Mia nodded excitedly, slowing her swing to a stop.

Lola jerked up his head. How had he not noticed this woman approaching them? He stood, unable to look away. She was as tall as he was and slender. Almost lanky, he thought, but not unattractive. Not at all. Her black hair seemed to curl around her ears naturally, leaving only enough length to touch the collar of her button-up blouse. The leather bag slung over her shoulder looked professional, although her dress was casual.

Mia jumped to her feet and began signing, then twisted toward Lola.

“Ah. You built this for her creations, she said,” the woman translated.

Lola gave a nod and flashed Mia another smile.

“I’m Heather Jenkins, Mia’s speech therapist.”

“Then I shall leave you two to your fun,” Lola told her and turned toward Mia. “I’ll see you later.”

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