Page 38 of The Lilac River

I chuckled under my breath. "You do have some pretty beautiful ideas, kiddo."

Bertie beamed, then tilted her head thoughtfully. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, Munchkin?"

"Did you like Miss. Gray?" Her voice was small, uncertain.

I hesitated. How did I explain feelings like I had to an eight-year-old? I sat on the edge of her bed, brushing my knuckles gently over her cheek. "She’s a great teacher."

"Did you know her? Before me?" Her expression was inquisitive, pondering. “It looked like you did.”

"Actually, yeah, a long time ago," I said, smiling.

She nodded seriously, then whispered, "You looked at her funny."

My heart did a slow, painful roll. "What do you mean, funny?"

"Like..." Bertie scrunched up her nose. "Like when you look at the sunset and you forget you were mad 'cause I spilled my juice."

That pulled a laugh out of me, low and surprised. Smart kid.

"Okay," I said slowly, "Maybe I was thinking of the sunset at the time."

“Or maybe she reminded you of it.” Bertie grinned. "And she smells good too. Like the lavender on Uncle Shane's farm."

Lavender.

The word filled my chest, a rush of bittersweet heat.

"Yeah, Munchkin," I whispered, kissing her forehead. "She smells just like that."

Bertie's eyelids fluttered closed, content. "Maybe you can be friends again."

Maybe. Maybe we could be more than friends. Maybe if I could get past the damn wall that had built itself inside me the day she left.

"Sleep tight, sunshine," I murmured against her hair.

She yawned, already half asleep. "Night, Daddy. Night, Miss. Gray," she added dreamily, like Lily was already part of our family again.

I sat there for a long time after she drifted off, staring at the moonlight slanting through her window. At the tiny, perfect girl who deserved every good thing in the world. At the hope she’d inadvertently planted in her heart, and possibly mine.

Maybe, just maybe, the past wasn’t as far gone as I thought. And maybe, if I was brave enough, I could find a way to forgive.

Chapter 15

Jar of Hearts – Christina Perri

Lily

It had been a long, hard week.

With a new class came inevitable chaos and mine came with Amber and Macey. They spent the entire week trying to form their own mini-empire, declaring war on anyone who didn't swear loyalty to their little gang. I'd even caught them about to snip a chunk out of Elodie's hair. Sweet, shy Elodie who was Bertie’s best friend. No way was she joining their gang under my watch. Then there was the Santa Claus disaster. Amber, with all the tact of a wrecking ball, decided to educate Turner, the quietest boy in class, that Santa wasn’t real. The next morning, Turner’s father showed up demanding blood and expulsions, saying his son had cried himself sick all night. Some days, it felt like teaching third graders was like herding caffeinated kittens through a glitter factory.

On Tuesday, right before recess, Jonah Harrison decided it would be a great idea to stuff crayons up his nose and challenge Hunter Biggs to a “who can sneeze them the farthest” contest.Meanwhile, Paisley Wells was gluing googly eyes onto the class hamster’s cage, claiming he “looked lonely," and Toby Daniels somehow managed to knock over the entire bookshelf while reaching for the dictionary to look up a word he couldn’t spell.

And through it all, I just smiled, tied back my hair, and quietly thanked the gods of elementary education that I kept a travel-sized bottle of Tylenol in my desk drawer.

It was loud, messy, chaotic and somehow, I loved every second of it.

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