Page 7 of Every Star that Shines

“Hi, Chickadee,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “Did you have a good week?”

“Yep!” Emma let go of him, and Monica stepped aside so their rambunctious daughter could grab her shoes.

“Hi, Caleb.” Monica gave him a warm smile, then glanced affectionately at the little girl.

“Hey. You look good,” Caleb said. There was something different about her, but he couldn’t figure out what. A gleam in her eye that wasn’t usually present.

Monica beamed. “Thanks.”

Before Caleb could comment further, Emma started chattering up at him while trying to pull on a turquoise canvas lace-up shoe with unicorn decals on the sides.

“Daddy, you’ll never guess what happened at school today.” She missed her foot because she wasn’t paying attention and tried again, but kept talking. “Addison gave me a friendship bracelet that she made herself. See?” She held up her wrist to display a pink-and-purple striped bracelet made from knotted embroidery thread. “Mom said she’s going to teach me how to make them so I can give her one back.”

Caleb grinned. “That’s awesome. I’m sure Addison will love it.”

“Do you think Hannah would want one?”

Caleb shook his head. Hannah was his sister Rachel’s youngest of four children. Of all Emma’s cousins, Hannah was the only other girl, and Emma could hardly wait for her to get old enough to play pretend with. “Hannah’s only two, which is a little young for friendship bracelets. Maybe when she’s a little older.”

“And maybe I can teach her how to make them by then, too.” Emma picked up her second sneaker and tried to force it on her foot.

“Maybe,” Caleb agreed.

Monica chuckled, then crouched to help Emma get the shoe over her heel and tied the laces, double-knotting the bow. “Sweetie, remember I said I wanted to talk to Daddy for a minute? How about you go wait in the truck?”

“Sure, Mom.” Emma leapt to her feet and threw her arms around her mother’s neck. “See you next week.”

“Actually, it might be sooner.” Caleb eyed his ex-wife. “Unless you won’t be able to make it to the parents’ meeting on Sunday?”

“For the play? Is that still running now that . . . you know?” Monica stood and gave Emma a wary glance.

Caleb held back a frown. He wanted to protect Emma’s innocence as much as possible, too, but death was a part of life. And it’s not like Molly Davis was Emma’s grandmother. At the thought, he wondered how Delanie was taking the news, then pushed the question aside. None of his business.

“My mom said Cheryl Fletcher told her they found a replacement director already, but she didn’t say who it was. So I guess the play is still on.” Caleb gave a sardonic snort. “Better be—I’m working on the sets with Noel Butler tonight.”

“That’s good news. Emma’s been practicing her song, haven’t you, sweetie?” Monica played with Emma’s silky brown hair, pulling it out of the neckline of her pink fall jacket.

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “I already know all the words by heart.”

“Wow,” Caleb said, impressed but unsurprised. Emma had only been cast as Lucy the Talking Cricket in the Pinocchio play a week ago. Monica had been a bit worried when Emma had landed a main cast ensemble part in her first year in the play, but he knew she would be up to the challenge. He could see he had been right.

“Okay, Emma,” Monica said with one last stroke of Emma’s hair, “I guess I’ll see you Sunday. Maybe we can start on your friendship bracelet while we’re at rehearsal.”

“Yeah? Cool! Can we do green and red? Wait. That’s for Christmas. How about blue and yellow?”

“I think I have some floss in those colours.” Monica’s mouth twitched in an amused smile.

“Awesome! I’ll see you soon then, Mom!”

Before Monica could respond, Emma pushed past Caleb and dashed to the white truck near the curb.

Caleb shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Monica glanced down and twisted her fingers, looking unusually shy. “I, um, have some exciting news.”

Caleb’s gut tightened. Had she and Dave finally decided to tie the knot? It would be about time—they’d been living together for two years already. And, call Caleb old-fashioned, but he would rather Emma’s mom be married to the guy she was living with, even if it wasn’t him. Not that he wanted it to be him . . . not even close. It was more of an example thing.

But a cursory glance showed Monica’s ring finger to be bare.

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