Page 6 of Kansas Keeper
“I think you might be overstating it just a bit,” he says.
Crunching around a salty potato chip, Embry plays peacemaker by saying, “Maybe a little bit, but it is scrum-dilly-icious.”
Hearing the little girl say the big word has me beaming. Just when I think she can’t possibly get any cuter, she goes and surprises me.
I don’t want this meal to ever end, but I’m so hungry that I find myself scarfing it down faster than I intend to.
“Want another one?” the man offers kindly when he realizes my plate is empty.
Not wanting to be a bother, I answer, “No, but some more chips and water would be wonderful.”
I don’t have to wonder long if I should offer to go get it myself because Embry yells, “I’m on it!” and grabs my empty glass before zooming to the kitchen.
“She’s a great helper, Mr. Hayes.” I murmur, smiling after the child.
“She has her moments,” he says before giving me a strange look. Seeming to make a slam decision, he adds, “It’s Beckett.”
“Beckett.” I let the strong name roll off my tongue before adding, “I’m Mara.”
“I know,” he answers just before Embry returns with the open chip bag and another half-filled glass of lukewarm tap water.
I dig into both with no shame. Father and daughter smile at each other before they each grab another handful of potato chips from the bag. We munch together in companionable silence.
After we finish, it dawns on me that I am intruding on their normally scheduled lives. Despite how much I would like to stay here with them, I don’t want to overstay my welcome and ruin any goodwill I might have built with Beckett over this shared lunch.
They both watch me cautiously as I move to stand, so I assure them, “I’m feeling much better.”
I stack our plates, grab my empty glass and the chip bag and head toward the kitchen. Over my shoulder, I say, “You guys made lunch, so the least I can do is take over cleanup duty.”
Embry squeals with glee over this idea. “Normally, I have to help with the dishes.”
“Not today. You relax. I’ve got this,” I tell her, hoping I’m not overstepping.
It only takes a couple of minutes to wash the pan and place the rest of the dishes in the empty dishwasher. I wipe down the counter, wishing I could think of a valid excuse to stay longer.
When I return to the living room, father and daughter are in the midst of a seemingly tense game of Old Maid. Embry wiggles one of her cards higher than the others and cackles when her dad falls for it and takes the old maid card from her.
Beckett plays the part and throws his hands up in frustration that she got him again.
“I would love to stay and see how the rest of this game plays out, but I should probably get going,” I say, silently hoping that they’ll insist I stay.
Instead, Embry nods her head as she stares at her dad’s cards and says, “Okay, bye.”
It isn’t the big goodbye and promise to see each other soon that I’d been longing for, but the child has no idea about my relevance in her life.
“Goodbye,” I whisper before turning to leave my heart behind once more.
I’m already planning an excuse to see her tomorrow when I hear her tiny voice ask, “Unless you want to come to the park with us after we finish playing cards?”
I doubt if Beckett wants me to come, but all that matters is that my daughter invited me to do something with her. There is no way I’m turning that down, so I make an about-face and say, “I would love to.”
7
BECKETT
Mara is fully taking advantage of my kindness. She knows I don’t want her spending time with Embry, yet she’s wiggling her way into our lives.
I should have put my foot down when Embry invited the woman to the park, but I’ve never been big on telling my daughter ‘no’––especially since Sandra died. I don’t want her to turn into a spoiled rotten brat, but if she wants something that is within my power to give her, I don’t see a reason to decline.
