Page 35 of Bound By Redemption
“Sounds good to me. I’m comin’ to see my grandbaby.”
“Dad…” I warned.
“I know. Not tellin’ the kiddo yet. But ya gotta speed that shit up. Around here information flies about something as big as this.”
“I’ll talk to Ensley.”
“Good.”
We walked through the door, the sun almost blinding us for a moment. Damn, down there was dark compared to the beautiful light above.
After blinking a few times, I scanned my eyes and landed on Ensley setting down what looked like a huge salad in a bowl bigger than her. She darted back into the clubhouse only to come out a few minutes later with every type of dressing known to man stacked in her arms. One misstep and it’d all fall down.
She set each bottle down without a single one falling to the ground until a little body rammed into her from the side. Ensley had to juggle but was able to keep the bottles from falling. The woman was good. Damn she was beautiful, and the way she smiled down at our little girl made her even more so.
Remy. My Remy looked up at her mother with unconditional love. The way she smiled at her had my heart pounding. That right there was what I hoped to have one day with Remy. Hope that she’d see me as someone she could depend on. One that she could trust. One that she could love just as much as I loved her. One she could count on for anything and everything.
Remy’s head turned, and I saw the instant she saw me because her face lit up, beautiful brown eyes wide, and her small little mouth falling open. She detached herself from her momma and came around the tables, barreling in my direction.
Bending down on one knee, she jumped into my arms and wrapped her little ones around my neck. “Mikeeeee!” she yelled, putting her little face in my neck.
“It’s like she already knows,” my father said, coming up beside me, and I agreed. Somewhere inside my little girl, she knew. She may not understand it, but one day she would. One day I’d remind her of this time. That was another thing about being a parent. Memories. They were so damn important to carry with you.
“Hey, bug, do you know my dad?”
Remy’s little head came up as she looked at my father. “Dats thhhhuu….” The amount of spit used to make that sound was crazy and funny. It being all over the side of my face, not so much.
“Yep. That’s me. How are ya?” My father’s finger lightly traced the little hand still clutched to me. It was reverent, and I hated that he’d missed out on her earlier years. Hell, I hated it that I did.
“Me elp cooookkkkkk!”
“Did you help cook?” I asked her while she nodded her head, her little thumb going into her mouth.
Was it normal for a two-and-a-half-year-old to suck on their thumb? As smart as I was in the tech world, in kid world, I needed a lot of help. Maybe audiobooks or something. They had to have Parents for Dummies, right? They had that book for everything else.
“Come and get it!” Princess yelled, and everyone swarmed to the four tables set up under the pavilion next to the clubhouse entrance. It would be a while before we got up there.
“Eat. Mes hungee,” Remy told me, pointing to the tables.
“Yep. We gotta wait for the line to calm down just a bit.”
Remy’s little lip quivered like she was going to cry. Oh no. No crying. It was one of those moments that I wanted to hold her at a distance from me and hand her off to someone who could handle kids crying. Not that I would, but that was how indecision plagued me.
“Um…” My father laughed, moving away from us. He had the right idea. Abort!
Remy started crying, full-out tears running down her face, and I stood there momentarily, not knowing what to do. Bouncing her didn’t help. Telling her to shhhhh did nothing. What did someone do to stop a little girl from crying?
“Here,” Ensley said at my side. She had a tray in her hand, and I blew out a sigh of relief. Food. “Come on.” Ensley led us over to a picnic table that was empty. In about five minutes all of the tables would be completely filled as more and more people arrived.
Ensley set the tray down, and miraculously Remy’s tears dried up as we sat on the bench, Remy on my knee.
On the tray were three bowls, two filled to the brim and one with only a few pieces in it. There were pieces of cornbread cut into rectangles and what looked like baked apples. My stomach growled at that moment. Remy was right. Eating sounded like a great idea.
“For me?” I asked with a brow raised to Ensley.
“Hell no. It’s all mine. I just got one extra because I love food.”
It took me a few beats to catch on, and once I did, I laughed. We really didn’t know each other that well, and picking up her sarcastic tendencies, I found that I liked them. Liked them a lot.
