Page 117 of Unexpected Kisses

She gets to work and, for a short while; she focuses fully on her task. The sheer concentration on her face is adorable.

“What’s your name?”

“My name’s Emma.”

“I’m four years old.” She holds up five fingers and then uses her other hand to tuck her thumb down. “How old are you?”

Uhm, I’m pretty sure my eyebrows just hit my hairline. I shouldn’t be surprised. Kids this age are inquisitive little characters.

“I’m thirty-seven.” I cringe when I think about being closer to forty than thirty. The years are flying by and I feel as though I’m standing still with my life.

“My uncle’s gonna be forty on Thursday.” She brushes the dirt off her hands, stands up, and places them on her hips. “He told me he’s not having a birthday this year.”

If only we could do that and not age. I would certainly welcome the ability to skip out on birthdays. Kenny wanders around my garden, inspecting the various plants, holding her hands behind her back like an old man. She’s quite the character.

“You’ve got some pwetty flowers. I like the purple ones best.”

“Me too. I think purple flowers look lovely against the green leaves.”

Kenny nods thoughtfully. “White flowers look nice, too.”

“Yes, they do. What’s your favorite color flower?” If she can ask questions, I’ll ask a couple of my own.

“Mommy liked pink flowers best. They was her favowite. Now they’re my favowite too.”

There she goes, cracking my heart open again. I think it’s sweet that she’s taken on her mom’s favored color. I don’t have many pink flowers, maybe I’ll get some more. They’ll look nice with the purple and white flowers I already have.

She comes back and flops down next to me; laying on her back, she spreads out her arms and legs on the grass. Looking and pointing up at the sky, she asks, “See that cloud up there?”

Shielding my eyes, I look up to the sky. There’s a single fluffy white cloud. “Yeah.”

“Mommy’s pwobably having a nap up there. She had a lot of naps before she went to heaven.” Her cute little cheeks raise with a half-smile and my heart splits right down the middle.

I wonder how her mom died. Was it sudden? Or did she know she was going to be leaving her baby girl motherless? Boulders settle in my chest at the thought of something happening to me. My boys would be left with a father who’s disinterested in them at best and no mother to show them the love they need to grow and thrive. I know Mom, Dad, Max, and Sarah would look after them, but it’s not the same.

She jumps up like a spring, brushing the loose grass from her shorts. “I better pull some more weeds out.”

“I need to empty my bucket. You wanna help me?” I ask as I stand.

“Okay.”

Kenny takes one side of the bucket, while I carry the other, taking the bulk of the weight. We wander through my side gate and I take the opportunity to pop my head over the lower part of the fence to see if I can spot her uncle in his workshop, but I can’t see anything from this vantage. Arriving at the bin, I grab the bucket and tip the weeds into it.

Heavy steps thunder on the other side of the fence. “Kennedy! Kennedy!” The deep, masculine voice is panicked. I look down at Kenny. I’m guessing her uncle’s finally noticed she’s missing and is now looking for her. She gives me a timid grin.

“I think your uncle’s looking for you.”

“Shhh. Let’s hide.” She holds her pointer finger up to her lips, which are tipped up, her eyes twinkling in mischief.

Oh, I don’t think so. I don’t want to cause her uncle any more worry, though it would serve him right. She’s been with me for almost an hour. That’s a long time for a four-year-old to get into all sorts of trouble. Where did he think she was?

“Kennedy Olivia Drivas!” Oh, he’s played the triple-name card. “You come here right this instant,” his thunderous tone echoes down the street.

I step through the gate and spot him. His broad back is facing me as he paces toward the street, hands on narrow hips, looking for his wayward niece. From the back, he’s quite impressive.

“Hi.” My voice cracks and my greeting doesn’t quite make it out. I clear my throat. “Uh, hi,” I say, louder and clearer this time.

He turns around and the wave I was about to offer dies in its tracks. All the saliva in my mouth dries up as I lay eyes on a mighty fine specimen of a man. He runs his hand through dark hair and steps toward me. Kenny’s right behind me—hiding.

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