Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
I stand at the edge of the kitchen, watching the two of them together. There’s an ease in their interactions that’s been missing from Peyton’s life.
It’s almost as though no time has passed at all; despite the new kitchen and the different home, Harley is exactly the same. Well, almost the same. The softness of youth has given way to the angles of womanhood. She no longer looks like a college student. She carries herself with poise and sureness. The cute, bubbly teen is now a bright, attractive woman with the same maternal warmth that calmed Peyton. And me. It doesn’t seem like that has changed either.
I wouldn’t have survived that first year of Peyton’s life without Harley. The grief alone would have been too much, let alone navigating being a father without my wife.
“Hey, you’re back earlier than expected. Did the meeting go okay?” Harley asks.
“Better than expected, actually.” I’m slowly transitioning to take over for my dad at Greenscapes so he can finally retire. It means catching up on how things work and attending a lot of meetings. We’re set to break ground on a huge park outside the city, and there were a couple of small issues with the design that needed to be ironed out. Once we have approval on those tweaks, we’ll be able to move forward.
“Dad!” Peyton abandons her snack and hops off the stool, running over and throwing her arms around me. “Come see what we made! We had bunny pizzas for dinner and Harley showed me how to make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and we painted with watercolors!” The words blend together with her excitement.
I let Peyton show me all the things they made in the two hours I was gone, and she informs me that the leftover bunny pizza is for her lunch tomorrow.
Once Peyton is finished with her snack, I send her off to brush her teeth and get ready for bed, leaving me alone with Harley. Over text, conversation between us flows easily. But in person, sometimes I feel she’s more comfortable with Peyton than she is with me. I guess it makes sense since I used to be her boss, but I’d like to find a way to change that. “Thanks again for doing this for me. I hope I didn’t interfere with your plans.”
Harley waves the comment away and then shimmies the tutu over her head and hangs it on one of the chairs. “It wasn’t a problem, and I love spending time with Peyton. As you can see, she was determined to make one of her fairy costumes fit me.”
“Thank you for indulging her.”
She shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s entertaining and she has such a great imagination. It’s probably one of my favorite parts about working with kids. They’re not afraid to get silly and just have fun.”
“Oh, I’m very familiar with her amazing imagination. There’s rarely a week that goes by that I don’t dress up as a fairy and have an afternoon tea party. Mostly I think it’s an excuse to eat cookies.”
Harley laughs. “Dress-up and tea parties go together like peanut butter and jelly.” She points to the fridge, where Peyton’s child scrawl fills up a sheet of pink paper. “Aside from all the food making, we also made a list of all the things she needs for school next week. She’s excited to start.”
“Thanks, my mother-in-law has been taking care of that since she started school, so that list will definitely help.”
“I always used to love back-to-school shopping. It helped with the excitement.” Harley brings Peyton’s empty snack plate to the sink.
“You don’t need to clean up. I’ve got this.” I grab a cookie off the plate and shove the whole thing into my mouth. It’s been years since I’ve had Harley’s baking.
Karen, my mother-in-law, didn’t agree with sweets in the house. And while I understand not wanting kids to overindulge in sugar, I also don’t think it hurts to eat a cookie every now and again. Especially when they’re homemade and delicious.
“I don’t mind. Have you eaten yet?” She arches a brow as I reach for another cookie.
“I’ll make myself a sandwich once Peyton is in bed.”
“Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll whip you up one of my gourmet grilled cheeses, like I used to back in the day.” She arches a brow while walking backward toward the stove.
“You still living on grilled cheese and fries? From what I remember, it was your go-to meal of choice. That and the movie The Princess Bride.”
“My dinner palate has changed, but I still love a good grilled cheese when the mood strikes me. My movie tastes on the other hand…” She gives me a wry grin. “You’re in for some comfort food, then?”
“I already hijacked your night. You don’t need to make me dinner too.” But I remember what those grilled cheese sandwiches were like and my mouth is already watering.