Page 57 of Risky Game

She pressed her lips together. No apology for it, and I shouldn’t have expected it. She was right. We used to agree on a lot of things.

I changed the game on her and she adjusted to the new plays.

“It’s not a bad idea,” I finally admitted. She could call my parents whenever she wanted to, and Vanessa’s sister and brother in California. She missed their kids, who were around her age. “We should have thought of it earlier.”

“Things change, we adapt.”

“Wow.” I looked back at Amelia and grinned. “You are so much more chill now than you used to be.”

“Oh fuck off”—she laughed—“that’s fighting words and you know it.”

I did. But we were laughing. And it felt good. I hurt Vanessa. She hurt me, but we’d found common ground in order to get past that.

That common ground was now sitting on the chair, legs crossed and hands in her lap. Her gaze was on a canoe moving slowly along the edge of the lakeshore.

Something I’d promised her.

I held up my hands, palms out. “I cede this round. I’ll get Amelia an iPad and will let you know when it’s set up and everything.”

“Wow.” She stuck out her tongue. “Look at you, being so reasonable these days.”

“Brat,” I teased her right back. “Have fun with Renaldo.”

“Oh, I do…”

I gagged. No man needed to have innuendo tossed his way about his ex’s sex life. “Too far and you know it.”

“I’ll call Amelia tonight to check in. Is that okay?”

“We’ll be here.”

But first, we had some serious shopping to do.

Amelia went ballistic, bouncing off the walls of the house and then in her booster seat when I brought up the idea of going to buy a boat. We stopped at REI first since it was closest, and the salesperson suggested a kayak might be easier for her to help paddle. They were easier to maneuver and lighter to move in the water, especially the paddles. They were out of stock on two-person kayaks, so we filled up the bed of my truck with a half-dozen other items, including inflatable stand-up paddleboards and paddles. Four life jackets for adults and a couple for Amelia. When I mentioned my part of the lake shore didn’t have a dock yet, the guy took us to their floating lounge docks.

“Not for permanent use, obviously, but they can be secured to the lake floor with an anchor. Gives you a little bit better access to the water and might make it easier to board the kayak. Can always be pulled up and out of the water if you want it.”

The floating dock was eight feet by twelve. Plenty of room.

So the floating dock went into the cart as well. Along with ropes and anchors to hold it in place.

It was when we were in the truck on the way to the Bass Pro Shops on the northern edge of Nashville when Amelia stunned me.

“Why did you buy three paddleboards, Daddy? When there are only two of us?”

“What?”

“Three boards. You bought three of them.”

Had I? I had. I’d bought three because, throughout the store, I kept thinking of the way Ruby always sat facing the lake for her morning cup of coffee. Because the two times we’d had drinks outside on the patio, her gaze always drifted to the lake. Because when I was splashing in the pool the other night with Amelia and I convinced Ruby to stay outside with us, she’d set down her phone and stared at the still water. And when I thought of paddleboarding, I envisioned Ruby out there with us.

And if I was being completely honest with myself, I’d bought the teal blue life jacket because it reminded me of the ocean.

It was four hours since Ruby left our house to head to her brother’s and my thoughts were consumed with her.

“Well, if one gets a hole or something, we need an extra.” I lied to Amelia for her benefit. Not mine.

I hadn’t even realized I’d bought the damn thing. Somehow, I included her in my life and with activities with my daughter like it was the most natural thing.

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