Page 6 of Seven

I led him toward the pottery wheel, and I couldn’t help but smile as he sat down in front of it with excitement in his eyes. Art and pottery had always been a passion of mine, and now, they were quickly becoming his.

I slipped on his apron and placed some clay on the wheel, letting him play while I went to grab my box of supplies. By the time I returned, he was giggling and covered in clay. He was intent on creating something, even if it resembled more of a lumpy blob than a bowl.

I smiled as I adjusted his apron.

“Okay, bud, let’s make a masterpiece,” I teased, placing my hands over his to guide the clay. The room was warm with the smell of earthy clay and the soft hum of the wheel. It was one ofthose rare, perfect moments I wanted to remember forever. Ford was just starting to get the hang of it when my phone buzzed on the counter.

I glanced at it out of instinct and shook my head, nudging it aside.

But then it buzzed again.

Something about the persistence made me pause.

My chest tightened when I finally looked.

Dad.

Seeing his name flash across the screen made my stomach twist into a mess of knots. It happened every time he called, and it was even worse when I had to see him in person.

It hadn’t always been this way.

There was a time when I thought he hung the moon.

But that all changed when he sent me away.

I fell for Holt, my brother’s best friend, when I was in high school. He was always hanging out at the house with Rooks. He was four years older than me, so I usually kept my distance and left them to do their own thing. Then, one night, we connected over a late-night bowl of cereal, and one thing led to another, and we started dating.

It wasn’t really dating at first. I was just a freshman at the time, so we hung out at the house and went to school functions together. But by the end of my senior year, we were making plans for the future. I was going to art school, and he was going to continue to work his way up in the military.

We weren’t naïve.

We knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Holt and I were from two different worlds, but we loved each other and were willing to do whatever it took to make it work.

But we never got the chance.

Dad didn’t like us dating, and when he realized how serious we were about our future, he tried to get me to end things withhim. When I refused, he sent me away to art school in Paris, breaking my heart and Holt’s. My father promised that one day I’d understand why he’d done what he’d done, but I never did.

I learned things in Paris that I wouldn’t have learned anywhere else, but the hurt and betrayal I’d felt all those years ago still clung to me—even more so whenever I looked at Ford and saw his father in his eyes.

That thought had me reaching for my phone and silencing the call.

I was having a moment with my son, and I wasn’t going to let my father ruin it. I glanced down at Ford, watching as he pressed his thumbs into the wet clay. “That’s it. Nice and slow.”

“Like this?”

“Yep. Now, pull it up slowly… like this.”

I leaned in closer and demonstrated with my own hands, showing him how to make the clay rise into a small circular shape. Ford mimicked my movements with a mix of awe and frustration. He tried with all his might, but his little fingers weren’t quite as nimble as mine.

“You’re doing great! This is gonna be the best bowl ever.”

Ford beamed up at me with a proud smile that melted my heart. I was just about to ask him if he wanted to add any designs to the sides when I heard a knock at the door. It wasn’t a knock I recognized, so I glanced over at the clock, checking the time.

We were at least a week away from opening, and I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I was a little hesitant as I pulled my hands from the clay and quickly wiped them clean. “Hang tight, buddy. I’ll be right back.”

A sense of curiosity tugged at me as I started to unlock the door, and then I heard a familiar, loving voice say, “Any day now, sunshine.”

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