Page 64 of Follow My Heart

“Great, actually. I’m enjoying the one-on-one time with Faith. I didn’t get that when I lived with Stacy.”

Dad sighed heavily. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“I was busy with work, and I let Stacy take lead with parenting. I’m starting to think the divorce was good for me. It’s giving me time to reevaluate the kind of father I want to be.”

“I’m proud of you. It could have gone the other way.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t feel like a failure when she asked for the separation.” It was more like she told me how it was going to be. “I’ve always wanted a family. I never thought I’d get divorced.” If it wasn’t for Stacy, I’d still be in an unhappy marriage. I wouldn’t have made the changes with Faith that were needed. I only had six more years with her before she’d leave for college. I needed to make those days count.

“You can’t always plan for everything.” His eyes were sad. He was talking about Mom’s death.

I nodded even as my chest tightened. “We have to live our life to the fullest and hope for the best.”

“That’s a good way to look at it. What are your plans for the evening?”

“We’re going to the light display,” Faith answered as she came into the room.

Dad raised a brow. “Monroes’ light display?”

I cleared my throat, wondering if he was going to make it a big deal. “Is there another one?”

“Not close by.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You have a problem with that?”

“Times are changing. That’s all.”

“How are things here on the farm?” I asked as Faith’s attention turned to the puzzle pieces laid out on the table.

Dad sighed. “We need to move on Charlotte. I can’t wait for Teddy.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“I already told her she could move into the cottage.”

“Daphne’s old place?” I asked him.

“She needed a place to stay, and we need help on the farm.”

“Does Teddy know?”

“Not yet. I’ll do it before she moves in.”

“See that you do. I wouldn’t want to be around when he finds out she’s moving onto the property.”

Shortly afterward, we said our goodbyes and headed home to scrounge up dinner. I followed a recipe for a fancier mac and cheese, figuring it couldn’t be hard.

When we pulled the casserole dish out of the oven, I wasn’t so sure. After it cooled, Faith took a bite. “I think I like the boxed stuff better.”

I groaned as I bit into a crunchy noodle. “Just what every cook wants to hear.”

Her lips twitched. “The boxed stuff is easier too. Just sayin’.”

“You’re a tough crowd.”

Faith shrugged. “You tried, right? That’s all that matters.”

“For sure.”

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