Page 58 of Everlasting Love

Before I realize what’s happening, Shane’s collecting the dirty dishes from the table and taking them to the sink. I was so caught up in my mind that I completely zoned out. Climbing to my feet, I collect the glasses and join him in the kitchen. “I know you feel like you owe us something for letting you stay here, but you don’t need to clean up. I’ll do this; it’s my job.” I try to nudgehim away from the sink with a hip check but the brick wall that he is means he doesn’t even move an eighth of an inch.

“I can wash a dish. It’s no problem. I’m enjoying the food, I can do my share.”

“Okay, I’ll dry.” I turn to Mom. “Would you mind bathing Jas for me?”

“No problem. Jas, let’s go and get you bathed. Which pajamas are you wearing tonight?” Mom’s voice fades as she leads my daughter out of the room.

As I watch Mom lead my daughter away and Shane wash the first dish, the whole situation feels so very domestic, and I can’t stop myself from picturing more evenings like this. Weeks turning into months and months turning into years of domestic bliss. A little brother or sister for Jas with Shane’s dark hair and eyes.

“Hey, where did you just go?” He taps my arm with his elbow, and I tilt my head back to look at him.

Shaking my head to rid myself of the thoughts, I tilt my lips slightly. “Nowhere. Let’s get these dishes done.”

“Okay.” Shane turns back to the sink and scrubs the plates. “I wanted to ask if there were any repairs or maintenance I could do while I’m here since your mom won’t accept any rent.”

I shrug. “We manage to do most things ourselves. I can’t think of anything right now.”

“Let me know if you do. I want to help.”

He wants to help. Because that’s what he always does. I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Okay,” I murmur. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

“Thank you.” He picks up the casserole dish and scrubs it clean then rinses it. We spend the rest of the task in silence, occasionally brushing against each other. It feels so familiar and yet we’ve never done this before.

“Mommy, I’m all clean. Can we do some coloring now?”

“Of course. You set us up at the table and I’ll finish putting these dishes away.”

She scurries around the table, collecting everything we’ll need, and then climbs onto the chair, opening the coloring book to the next page. Shane turns and rests his ass against the sink, folding his thick arms across his chest as he smiles at my daughter, making my chest constrict. Most of his genuine smiles are for the girls, and as sweet as it is, I wish I could steal more of them for myself because when he smiles for me it feels like I’ve won the lottery.

I take my seat next to Jas and open to the next blank page. Nice, I’ve been looking forward to coloring this one. I glance across at Jasmine’s page. “Oh, that sunflower is going to look fantastic once you’ve finished.”

“I love sunflowers. They always look so happy.”

I nod and grin at my daughter. “Maybe I should have named you Sunflower.”

She giggles but doesn’t lift her eyes from the task. “That would be a funny name.”

Mom wanders into the kitchen. “How about I make us all a cup of hot chocolate”—she says to the room, then turns to Shane—“and then you and I can retire to the living room.”

Jas hums as she colors. This kid is in her happy place, and hot chocolate on top of that is the icing on the cake. Shane and Mom work side by side to make the drinks while Jas and I get lost in our coloring.

“Mommy, you did a great job of the twisty bark on the tree trunk.”

My cheeks rise. “Thanks, Jas.” I glance over to see how she’s doing with her sunflower. “I love the colors you chose for the butterfly.” She colors mostly inside the lines now. I’ve kept her early attempts at coloring, and occasionally I show her howmuch she’s improved. She gets a real kick out of seeing her first pictures.

“Yeah, it looks so pretty.”

Mom places our drinks on the table, and then she and Shane disappear into the living room. I can only imagine what she might say to him, and while I normally love spending this time with my daughter, coloring and talking about our day, I would love to be a fly on the living room wall.

I clear my throat. It’s time to have a difficult conversation with my girl. I’ve been waiting to be alone with her and now’s my opportunity. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about what Jason said to you the other day. You know it’s not true, right? You’re not ugly.” She stays quiet, but I notice a furrow form between her brows.

“I know,” she whispers.

“Are you sure? Because you seemed very upset about it.”

“He hurt my feelings.” She looks up at me with wide eyes so much like mine. “And he made me remember that Daddy said I was ugly, too.”

“I’m sorry your daddy said such hurtful words. He was angry at Mommy and thought he could upset me by saying mean things about you. Nothing he said was true. I want you to know that.” I press my hand against her chest. “You have such a beautiful heart, there’s no way you could be ugly. Not even if you tried.”

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