Page 84 of The Sandbar saga

"Why don't we go sit there." He pointed toward the trees. "We can find some shade and play a game."

His daughter walked more sedately with him. The reminder of being with him for the first time, coupled with already missing her mom, took the wind out of her sails. An hour was a long time at her age.

He sat on the grass, keeping his legs straight, and leaned back on his hands. "What sort of things do you like playing with your mom?"

"Dolls." Callie picked at the grass. "They're taking a nap."

"Ah, I guess that is what dolls would do in the middle of the day without their mommy around." He had a mental list of questions to get her talking and asked, "Do you have a cat or dog?"

Callie shook her head. "Mommy says we can't have a cat."

"I'm sure your mom knows best."

"Do you have a cat?"

"No." He paused. "I had a dog once."

"What was his name?"

He chuckled. "I called him Joe."

"Where is he?"

Not realizing that the subject was a bad one when he started talking, he said, "He died after living a long, long life."

"What's died?"

Without missing a beat, and not wanting to lie to his child, he said, "Away."

Callie was too young to understand death. Something he was glad about.

She crawled around the grass and stopped by his shoe. Plucking his shoestring loose, she giggled and rolled away.

Amusement filled him. He retied his shoe. She was a handful.

Because of her age, she appeared to understand simple equations and the here and now questions. The abstract ones were too difficult for her to grasp, as they should be.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked.

"Purple." She stopped, looked down at her shirt as if she'd find the color on her, but she was wearing a white shirt with little pink flowers all over it.

"Do you watch movies?"

She stood and twirled around and around. "Elsa. She makes snow."

He had no idea who Elsa was, but Callie obviously loved her, and that's all that mattered.

"What's your favorite food?"

"Peanut butter."

He chuckled. Not one to turn down a PB&J sandwich himself, he would have to remember that for when she spent more time with him.

Because of her thought process at four years old, he would need to keep introducing the idea of him being her father. For Callie, having a father was an idea, not a physical part of her life. But that was all going to change.

"Callie?" He waited for her to look at him. "I have important news."

She glanced at him and then rolled to a stop in the grass, something catching her attention. He tapped the bottom of her foot.

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