Page 21 of Since the Day We Kissed

“Yeah, probably,” Charlotte said, rising.

Before Charlotte could get up, Kara was in motion, her maternal instincts carrying her swiftly to the bathroom, where she retrieved the familiar white bottle from behind the mirrored cabinet door.

Charlotte sighed as Kara returned and handed her the bottle. “I could have gotten that, Mom.”

“I know you could have. But you need to rest today. And I’m making your fav.”

“Chocolate chip pancakes!”

Kara grabbed the mixing bowl of pancake batter from the fridge and brought it to the stove. “You know it.”

“You da best.” Charlotte stood and hugged Kara, then inched past and started the coffeemaker. “Want some?”

“Sure.” Kara smiled.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Who’s that?” Charlotte asked.

“Don’t know.” Kara stepped away from the stove and opened the front door.

“Hello, Kara.” Whitaker Walker breezed past her, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed. A crisp button-down and freshly ironed slacks peeked out from beneath his starched white coat, while his polished loafers squeaked against the floor.

Kara’s eyebrows shot up. “Dad?” She trailed after him. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

Charlotte spun around. “Grandpa!” She set down the two coffee mugs in her hand and wrapped her arms around his tall, lean frame.

“Hello dear. Always wonderful seeing you,” he said.

Kara plastered on a smile. “Staying for breakfast, Dad?”

“Just some coffee. I have to head to the pharmacy soon,” he said, settling into a chair. His eyes lingered on Charlotte. “Your cheek—what happened?”

Charlotte touched the bruise. “It’s nothing really. Just a bump from the car accident last—”

“Accident?” Whitaker shot his daughter the death stare. “Kara, what is she talking about?”

“Nothing to worry about. Charlotte is in one piece, and after we left the hospital—”

Whitaker pushed back his chair abruptly. “The hospital? And you didn’t think to call me?” His voice rose. “Kara, how many times do I have—”

Charlotte stepped between them. “Here, Grandpa, just how you like it.” She pressed the mug into his hands. “I even added the cream.”

“Thank you, dear,” he said, patting Charlotte’s hand. Whitaker’s gaze shifted to Kara. “You shouldn’t have let her drive in the rain at night. You know how dangerous these roads can be.”

Kara’s stomach clenched as the memory of her mother’s accident flashed through her mind—the call, the news, the helplessness. But she quickly refocused.

“Dad, are you sure you don’t want pancakes?” she asked, pushing down the rising lump in her throat.

He shook his head. “I said coffee will do.”

Kara pressed herself against the counter, her posture rigid as Charlotte maneuvered around her—a silent ballet they had mastered over the years.

“Don’t you think this place is too small for two grown women?” Her dad took a slow sip of his coffee. “I still can’t believe you sold the old house. I hope your petting zoo was worth it.”

“Animal rescue, Dad,” Kara said, biting her lip. She turned off the stove, then picked up a plate of chocolate-chip pancakes and carried it to the table. “This house is fine. And Charlotte is off at school most of the time now.”

Charlotte squeezed into a chair. “I like this house.”

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