Chapter 6

Autumn

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” I looked down into my daughter’s bright blue eyes, which she closed to give a big yawn.

“Yes, Mama. I don’t want to miss another day of school. If I do, I won’t get to have an award.” She closed her little fist and held it to her mouth as she coughed. “I need to get ready. Paisley is wearing her purple shirt today, and I’m supposed to wear my purple shirt, too.”

I looked over to where I’d laid out a green one and got up from her bed to go put it away. “You and Paisley need to make me a schedule if you’re going to keep coordinating.”

“We want matching shirts, too, because we want to be twins.” Paisley was a little red-haired girl with so many freckles that if she had another one, she’d have to hold it in her hand, while my daughter was pale blonde. Cinnamon and sunshine is what I’d called them.

“I’m sure matching clothes would make that happen.” I chuckled to myself, thinking of those two and how cute they were. But I looked up to see that Penelope was shaking her head.

“I know it won’t make us look like identical twins, Mama, but we could look like fraternal twins.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right. You could.” I should have known better than to underestimate my daughter, who had actually come to me once after Jason and I were having a fight and told me that I should get divorced so we could all be happy again. Apparently, one of her little friends had told her how great it was to have divorced parents, and Penelope thought it sounded like a wonderful solution to our problems, and she was absolutely right. Sadly enough, I’d been holding out on leaving him to make sure that she would be all right.

Jason acted offended, but once I pointed out that he would be happier living the bachelor life without a wife and kid, he made it clear that my money was the only reason he had decided to stick around as long as he did by asking how he was supposed to live on his personal salary alone.

He had grown accustomed to my wealth and the income from the job my father had provided for me. I had enabled him by making him too comfortable, or so he’d said.

Finally, after a few rocky months, I got my divorce and was awarded full custody of our daughter. However, Jason had been granted visitation rights and could see her every other weekend if he chose, and one day during the week, though he’d never taken that opportunity. He’d tried the weekend thing for a while but wasn’t consistent, and now he was on a no-show streak that was going to land him back in court. I hadn’t gone after him for any support and didn’t plan on it, and every minute he was not in her life, I was glad I didn’t.

But each of those minutes weren’t to be celebrated because I had a feeling that deep down, Penelope was even more like me, and the idea that her father didn’t care about her had to hurt deeply.

“I’m ready,” she said, tugging my arm. I looked down and realized that while I was in my daze, remembering the past year, she’d gotten up and put on her purple shirt and a pair of jeans with heart-shaped pockets and her favorite sneakers. “Let’s have waffles for breakfast with smiley faces.”

“Why do you feel the need to have your breakfast smile at you?” She always asked for smiling pancakes, smiling waffles, and even smiling cereal, which wasn’t too hard if you cut a banana just right.

“Because you usually cook bacon for the smiles, and I like bacon.” She swung our arms as we walked out into the hall and down to the kitchen.

“I love bacon, too, but I’m afraid we’re all out. So how about we eat some regular waffles today?”

“I can make a smile with some bananas and chocolate chips.” She gave me the smile she always used when she wanted to get her way.

“You certainly are feeling much better.” I gave her a pat on the head and went to the kitchen where she followed and settled up at the table while I got the waffles from the freezer and put them in the microwave. Cooking wasn’t my strong suit, but I managed and was eager to learn if I had the time. “One day, I’ll have to make the kind of waffles you pour into a waffle iron. I got one as a gift from my wedding, and I think it’s still around here.” I talked from the other side of the counter as I took the butter from the fridge, and when I turned around, she was headed for the microwave to get her food.

“I’d like that,” she said as the microwave beeped. “I’ve never had real waffles before.”

“You poor, deprived child. I’ll have to do that for you. I’ll look for the iron this weekend, or I’ll just go buy us another. We should have real waffles.”

“And real syrup, too?” She reached over and grabbed the butter from my hand, and then I got the syrup and brought it to the table.

“Two of those are mine, little miss.” I grabbed my waffles just in time before she slathered them all in butter and syrup.

She giggled. “I can’t eat them all anyway.”

“I used to know a boy who could put away a box with me in one sitting.”

“A whole box? That’s a whole dozen.” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah, and I was lucky to get two. I’ve told you about my best friend, Emmett.” I thought of Emmett a lot, and since he’d been around for the better part of my childhood, I had told her every story I could about him. Except for how when he left on the day of my wedding, he never came back.

“He’s the boy who lived next door, isn’t he?”

“Yep, the very one.”

“Did he like whipped cream on his waffles, too?”

“You bet, but usually, he didn’t wait around for any. He’d slather them in syrup just like you and devour them like they were going out of style.” I took a bite and wondered what had ever happened to him. We’d lost touch before I knew what was happening, and even though I’d tried to call the last known number, I never got an answer.

I didn’t let my bitterness about his leaving get in the way of my memories, and I knew if I ran into him, I’d still be his friend and hope to catch up.

“He sounds fun. Was he cute?”

I felt my cheeks warm as I imagined him at my wedding, his strong arm holding me as we walked down the aisle, and then later as we danced. “Oh, yes. He was always handsome.”

“Was he more handsome than Daddy?” She giggled, then picked at her waffle, and popped a forkful into her mouth.

I knew I had to be careful how I answered that one. Jason had been handsome when we were kids, but the ugliness he’d displayed in the divorce made me change my mind. Beauty could be altered a lot by one’s attitude, and while I’d never really thought that either one was more handsome than the other, it was an easy choice now. I only wished it had been then. Instead, I’d been banished to a permanent friend-zone.

“They are both very handsome. They were best friends, you know? Me and Emmett were like family.”

“Was he like a cousin or something?”

“Let’s just say, he was my Paisley for many years.”

“Did you dress alike?”

“No, he would have never gone for that, although I did dress him up in my father’s coats a time or two.” I laughed, thinking of how sweet he was to play along with me. He didn’t even mind me kissing him, but he drew the line when I wanted to use tongue. We were only a year older than Penelope, so I saved that story for when she was older.

“In Grandfather’s coats?” She thought that was especially funny as she laughed even harder and even covered her mouth. I could see why that was funny to her since my father only wore pinstripes. He looked like an old gangster and had never really played with Penelope. She saw him as I had, a strong businessman.

We finished with breakfast, and then I took her to school where I walked her in and made sure she gave her excuse for the previous day’s absence. She had only had a little sniffle and a low-grade temp, but I was always overly cautious with her.

Before heading to work, I stopped into the coffee shop to get my usual morning latte to take to the office with me. The place wasn’t as crowded as usual, and when I went to the counter, the young man behind it was grinning ear to ear.

After I gave my order, he hesitated a moment before turning around. “You’re a little late today.”

“Yeah, it happens.” I wanted to tell him I’d be later if he didn’t hurry up with my coffee, but instead, I slapped on a smile.

“You work around here?”

“Yes, what gave me away?” I kept my tone sharp as he finally turned around and made my drink.

“You know, I bet if you gave me your number, we could find more than work to talk about.”

“Is that right?”

“Oh yeah.” The young man had to be at least five years younger than me, if not more, and I had no interest in immature men. I’d been married to one of those long enough.

“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to go out with me. I’m loaded with baggage and work too many hours. I’d make you miserable.”

His smile faded. He gave me a nod, handed me my coffee, and promptly moved on to the man behind me.

As I turned around, I noticed a morning paper lying on the first table I passed. The headline read: Local Hero Shot in Action Wakes from Coma.

When I saw the picture of Emmett beneath it, I stumbled, and my coffee crashed to the floor and exploded at my feet, soaking my shoes and the floor around me.