Page 19 of The Single Dad Project

“Oh, of course.” Cole slowly nodded. “But if I did happen to let it slip, I’m about eighty-six percent sure they would say you’ve told them the same thing.”

She gasped, spreading her fingers wide over her chest. “Why, Cole. That hurts. It really does.”

“And yet, I hear no denial.” He snorted, then slowly, the humor evaporated from his face.

Her stomach flipped. “What’s wrong?” she asked, stepping back. “Why’re you looking like that?”

Cole sighed. “Damn photographers. You don’t miss anything.”

She shook her head. “Nothing to do with being a photographer. I’m your sister and I’ve known you almost all my life. Which means I recognize all your expressions. And this one clearly says, ‘Oh shit. I’d rather be anywhere else but here.’”

“Okay, I stand corrected. Damn baby sisters. You don’t miss anything.” Releasing another sigh, he opened the desk drawer above his lap and withdrew a red envelope. The kind that accompanied greeting cards.

She froze, her gaze latching on to the piece of mail as if it contained a biological agent instead of a harmless card.

But it’s not harmless, is it?

Flo tried to shush that know-it-all voice in her head, but her heart... Her heavily thumping heart couldn’t ignore that sly question. Because it wasn’t innocuous. Not to her peace of mind. Not to the carefully constructed guard erected around her past and all the shit that threatened to leak out every time she received one of these fucking cards.

“Thanks.” She injected a careful calm into the word as she forced herself to accept the card from Cole.

She didn’t need to peruse the return address to determine the identity of the sender. Didn’t need to open the flap to discover a birthday card inside, although hers had been three weeks ago. No, she didn’t need to do any of that. Because every birthday and Christmas the same mail arrived. Sometimes the frequency changed due to life’s special occasions—like her high school and college graduation. But other than that, they were the same. And from the same person.

And like all the others that had come before this one, it would end up tossed in the same place.

A shoebox tucked on a shelf in the hall closet.

She hid them from sight, just as the first father she’d known hid her from his.

“Flo, I can just tell Dad I gave it to you,” Cole said, reaching for the envelope. “He won’t question me.”

A flash of anger shimmered bright and hard in her chest before she doused it, weariness creeping into her bones, adding a heaviness to her body that she couldn’t shake loose.

She tried so hard to pretend as if the biannual mail from Noah Dennison didn’t affect her. As if she didn’t walk around like a real life Pig-Pen, her emotions swarming around her in a dark, dusty cloud, dragging her every step. She acted like the cards were no big deal to protect her father, Ian Dennison.

After all, it wouldn’t do for her father to know Flo resented everything about his brother.

Now it seemed her acting skills had gone to waste. If Cole sensed she didn’t want the cards, who else knew? All her brothers and sisters? Moe?

She didn’t want their concern.

Didn’t need their pity.

Both made her feel like an ungrateful bitch. And a horrible daughter.

“Not necessary.” She scrounged up a smile for Cole’s sake, but when his eyes narrowed on her, she figured that effort had been an epic fail. So she shrugged a shoulder. “It’s no big deal. Definitely not worth lying to Dad about. It’s fine.”

“I wouldn’t be lying,” he countered like the attorney he was. “I did give you the card. Doesn’t mean I can’t take it back.”

That hauled a dry laugh out of her, and she moved closer to him. Leaning down, she kissed his cheek again. “Thank you for being willing to prevaricate on my behalf like any self-respecting big brother. But like I said, it’s fine.I’mfine. Now,” she said, arching an eyebrow, “back to why I’m here, besides making sure you don’t starve yourself.Vintage Renovation. When do I start?”

After a pause where she could practically spy the war waging in his head over whether or not to push the subject of his uncle and her absentee father, he finally conceded. “In two days. Check your email later tonight.”

“Great. And thanks again. This means the world.”

“Uh-huh.” He picked up his fork and dug into the mac ’n’ cheese. “Just remember that the next time you talk to Wolf.”

“Right.”

---