“Goofing off?” I echoed inquiringly.
“You work too hard. And you know what they say about Jack when he’s all work and no play?” Ada smiled, which reminded me of her mother.
“It makes you dull, Dad,” Tristan called out.
“Alright. I can goof off for a day,” I agreed, charmed by the effort our kids were putting into me. I was also grateful to Lia for this. She’d raised our children to be compassionate and affectionate. The difference between Ada and Birdie was about a millionlight years.
“Good,” Tristan remarked. “Ada’s going to drag you out, and you’re going to let her. Do whatever she says. And Dad?”
“Yeah, son?”
“You don’t have to worry about us. We’re here. We always will be. Focus on Mama.”
I swallowed hard. “Thanks, Tristan.”
Ada ended the call and set her phone aside.
“Okay, old man.” She looked mighty pleased with herself. “We’re going out.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Out where?”
“It’s summer. It’s a Saturday. We’re going to the Forsyth Farmers’ Market like proper Savannahians, and then we’re taking a walk through the park. You need sun, you need fresh air, and you need to stop looking like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” It actually sounded excellent, like what Lia and I should’ve been doing on our weekends instead of me working, as my kids put it, “down to the bone.”
“Yep. And then we’re getting ice cream. No arguments.”
“I’d never dream of arguing over ice cream.”
This was precisely the kind of distraction I needed today.
Thank you, Lia, for thinking of this for me.
Ada drove us in my car, leaving her Mini Cooper at the house because her AC was causing her grief. “It’s going for service on Monday,” she assured me when I asked her to keep my car and let me drive hers.
Ada led the way through the farmers’ market, pointing out homemade jams, fresh produce, and pastries from local bakeries.
“See?” she said, elbowing me as we walked. “The sunlight didn’t kill you.”
“I’mnota vampire.”
She let out a low laugh. “But the way you’ve been hiding in your study, Dad, has made us all wonder.”
I huffed out a breath. “I let you all down.”
Ada put her arm around my waist and leaned into me. “Dad, I think the person you let down the most is yourself.”
I kissed her hair. “You’re right, sweetheart.”
“I’m also proud of you for ditching Grandma’s torturous Sunday dinners.”
This time, my laugh was full and genuine. “Mama told you about that debacle?”
“Actually, Hendrix did,” Ada explained. “I’d gone to see Grandpa, and he gave me the lowdown.”
My heart clenched. My daughter made time for my father when I hadn’t. “Kid, you’re amazing, you know that?”
“Idoknow that,” Ada preened. “Hendrix also told me that Grandpa cheered up when you went to see him.”