Page 42 of Catching Trouble
The black kitten sat perched on the counter, helping himself to the remnants of the bowl. I didn’t rush to move him on. I didn’t even mind his fluff on the countertop. I felt like I’d walked in on a secret bonding moment between the three of them, and judging by the smile on my lips, the feel-good vibes had infected me, too.
When the song ended, Sophie turned, and the look on her face made my chest ache. Her eyes sparkled. Her dark hair sat in a messy lump on the top of her head, held in place with a green ribbon. A jelly-like green gloop coated her face, and she wore the biggest smile I’d ever seen. At the sight, my heart pulsed. She looked so happy. I hadn’t seen that side of her in far too long.
“Do you have any more by that band?” she asked, grabbing Chloe’s forearm and shaking it like an impatient toddler. Her grin creased her green mask.
“Of course, but…”
“No excuses!” Sophie said. “Papa won’t be back for ages. He’ll be busy at the club as usual.” Shestared skyward, and a tightness curled in my chest. It wasn’t sadness or anger—a more sharp, immediate feeling that brought a bitter taste to the back of my mouth.
She was right.
Ihadbeen spending too much time at the club. Sidestepping anything I couldn’t control. Avoiding both of them. And now they werehere, giving me a glimpse of something different. Something warm. Glowing. Something I wanted to be part of, only I wasn’t sure how.
Then Chloe turned. She looked even more ridiculous thanSophie. She’d looped her hair in some sort of tie, and had a pink, glittery face mask smeared all over her cheeks and forehead. She had smile lines, like train tracks running through the edges of her mask, too. I exhaled slowly. Her face burned just as bright as my daughter’s.
Sophie moved to Chloe’s phone, spinning it around on the flour-coated countertop.
She scrolled through the screen, presumably searching for the next song, and I edged back against the wall. Chloe was dangerously near the door. If she looked around, she’d spot me.
I held my breath—as if that would help. But some mischievous sea sprite must’ve been playing tricks. A breeze stirred around me, softly at first, then stronger, rattling the wind chimes above. Chloe’s head snapped up at the sound, and in an instant, her eyes pinned on me.
They widened, and she opened her mouth as if to say something.
My gut shifted. I didn’t want my daughter to know I’d seen them dancing and having fun. I shook my head slowly, bringing a finger to my lips.
Chloe looked back at Sophie, who stayed glued to her phone, oblivious. Then she gave me a small nod.I smiled. Not just at her acquiescence, but at the way she looked—as if someone had emptied a piping bag onto her face.
And dammit, she smiled back, her face mask cracking like an old crone. The glow in her eyes took my breath away.
The little kitten spotted me, no doubt wondering why I hadn’t given him any fish scraps. He jumped off the counter to weave around my ankles, screaming to be fed.
Sophie turned towards the sound. When she saw me, she grinned.
My heart exploded with love.
“Papa! What’re you doing here? We thought you’d be busy.”
I scooped up the kitten and stepped into the kitchen. “How could I miss this?” I popped the animal back onto the counter and placed my hands around Sophie’s head, tilting it slowly as if examining a priceless work of art. “Green is your colour.”
Her nose wrinkled. “I think I look like I should be in the hospital, but Chloe says it’s good for my pores.”
I glanced at Chloe, and she shrugged. “That’s what it said on the packet.”
“Well, I think I should leave you to it. My pores are perfect already.”
They both laughed, but as I turned to leave, Sophie caught my hand, pulling me back. “No, Papa. Stay. Chloe can find you a mask for something else.”
I shook my head. I had no intention of crashing the party. They looked happy enough without me. I’d only bring the mood down. But she pulled harder, kicking one of the table’s heavy chairs into my path.
“Sit. Please?”
The sparkle in Sophie’s eyes melted every shred of my resistance. Who was I to break up the fun? “Fine,” I said, taking a seat.
Her grin deepened, crinkling the edges of her mask. “Wonderful.” She turned to Chloe, who was dabbing around the mixing bowl with a paper towel. “What do you have for Papa?”
I fought a wry smile. How about a recipe for sleepless nights? A cream for soothing the vivid scenes of her playing in my mind every time I was alone.
Chloe grinned—like a supervillain—threading her fingers together under her pink chin. The skin on the back of my neck prickled.
