Page 31 of A Home for Harmony
“Nothing,” Scarlet said, shrugging.
His daughter was pulling her clothes out and taking the tags off and folding them into a pile. He had no clue if she’d take them home or leave them here. He gave up trying to figure it out.
She split her possessions between the houses and fetched anything she needed from the other one. It was easier with herdriving now rather than having to run up and down the street or ask one of her parents to bring it over.
“Something had to have happened,” he said. “We had a plan and normally stick to it on the holidays. Did you not have fun at your grandparents?”
“It was good,” Scarlet said. “Mom was moody again.”
He sighed. “She can’t be moody all the time,” he said. “Are you sure you two aren’t just annoying each other?”
Scarlet shrugged again. “I don’t know. She annoys me. She’s always telling me to hurry and rush when I’m getting ready. I wanted to look nice last night.”
His daughter had a bad habit of taking forever to get ready. “We’ve talked about you being late before,” he said.
“But it was just to Grandma and Grandpa’s,” Scarlet argued. “It’s not like I was late to school.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You should always be on time.”
Scarlet rolled her eyes. “You’re so boring. Not everyone is as rigid as you.”
“I’m not that rigid,” he said. “I let you show up when you want.”
He was squinting his eyes at her.
She giggled. “That’s a joke and I know it. Even though you’re not smiling.”
“Sure,” he said. “It’s a joke.”
Though he was damn glad Harmony hadn’t been here when his daughter arrived.
He wasn’t so sure he could handle that.
He’d dated over the years but nothing serious and no one he introduced to Scarlet.
If his daughter saw cars at the house, she’d ask who it was and most times it was friends and not a woman. Since he’d been living on the same street, he made a habit of not having women over.
Which didn’t explain why he was so willing to have Harmony come last night.
Maybe because he knew his daughter wasn’t home and wouldn’t see Harmony’s car.
“What are you making for breakfast?” his daughter asked.
“You still didn’t tell me what happened last night,” he said. He stood up to walk to the kitchen. “It had to be more than your mother telling you to hurry.”
“Fine,” Scarlet said, getting up and walking into the kitchen with him. She opened the fridge and got the orange juice out and poured a glass. “I know Mom got me more gift cards than anything. And she doesn’t do a stocking anymore either. I just like waking up here on Christmas morning. You make it fun for me, even though I know Santa doesn’t exist.”
“Santa doesn’t exist?” he asked, whirling quickly to look at her with his eyes wide.
His heart was all soft and squishy that his daughter wanted to be with him.
He had to be doing something right even if other women in his life didn’t think so.
“Don’t be silly, Dad,” Scarlet said, moving over to hug him. She didn’t do it often, but when she did, it reminded him of the little girl that was growing up before his eyes.
“That’s me,” he said. “The silly Dad.”
He kissed her on the top of her head before she moved out of his arms.
