Page 80 of One and Only

Olive dashed away from the island, hopping up the stairs to go put her things away in her room.

Josie watched her go with a sad smile, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “It never gets easier,” she said. “I always think it will.”

I hated those moments when I damn well knew there was nothing I could say to make it better. It butted up against that side of my personality that wanted todo something, take away the hard if I could manage it.

Instead, I offered her a sad smile in return and a small bit of truth. “I can’t even imagine.”

“It helps a lot that she’s happy here,” Josie said. Just before she opened the door to leave, she turned. “Oh,” she said. “When I got her from school today, I added you to the approved pickup list in the office. Just in case something happens while I’m gone, I wanted to make sure you were cleared to get her.”

“Thank you,” I said feelingly. “That’s really nice of you to take care of that for Beckett.”

She opened her mouth to answer when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen with a wince. “Ooh, I lost track of time. Thanks for the cookies and the conversation.”

“Anytime.”

Based on the smile she gave me in return, she knew I meant it.

I exhaled slowly because the entire day was a whole lot of awhole lot. We’d basically hit every loop on the roller coaster of a blended family, and it showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

But now was the fun part.

I dug into my bag and found my paper sketch pad, deciding to ditch the iPad for my evening with Olive.

When I found her, she was sitting at her desk, tongue tucked between her teeth and a mess of crayons and markers around her paper.

“All right, my little Monet. Want to go outside and find some flowers to sketch?”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

I tilted my head toward her window. “The rain stopped a bit ago, and that rhododendron bush back by the barn is very pretty right now. I think we have to.”

We decided to keep things simple, just a basic lead pencil and some paper, and before I knew it, her stomach rumbled loud and furious as we both worked on a patch of wildflowers we found beyond the house a way.

Olive and I were both sitting cross-legged in the grass, even though it was still a bit damp from the morning rain, and when her stomach rumbled, she slapped a hand over it in shock.

“That was you?” I teased. “That was as loud as Parker’s stomach when he’s hungry.”

She peeked at my paper, eyes wide when she saw my various sketches. “Yours is better,” she said softly.

“I’ve had a lot of years of practice. And I went to school to learn how to draw the way I do now,” I reminded her. “And when I was your age, I definitely wasn’t as good as you.”

Some of the sadness cleared from her big eyes, and she hopped onto her feet, swiping the grass and dirt from the back of her pink leggings.

“What should we have for dinner?” I asked as we walked back.

She didn’t answer right away. “Is Daddy gonna eat with us?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. He just said he’d be back to put you to bed.”

“Maybe pizza?” she asked, glancing up at me. “He never eats that.”

Judging by the state of his abs, this did not surprise me. When I thought about his shirtless chest against my back again, I cleared my throat.

“Pizza it is,” I declared.

We called the closest restaurant that delivered, sharing an apple and some grapes while we waited for it to arrive. Olive asked if we could watch TV—her favorite show featured an animated horse, and we watched an episode while we polished off a respectable half of a medium pizza.

She had one piece.

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