Page 39 of This Kind of Forever
“Good news?” I ask.
She looks up to find me watching her. “It’s Kevin. He invited me—well, I guessus—to dinner at his house on Saturday.” She chews on her lower lip. “Are you still alright with…you know?”
We both glance at Abbie, but she’s too busy looking through the Halloween candy on display to listen to our conversation. Hallie and I agreed to keep the engagement talk to a minimum around her. Especially after I set Abbie straight—that just because Hallie is living with us, it doesn’t mean we’re getting married like her mom and Chris—I don’t want to confuse her.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Saturday works for me.”
To be truthful, I’m not in any rush to meet the guy that’s supposed to be her dad. I know his experience with cancer gave him a different outlook on life and made him realize the errors of his ways, so he claims, but him skipping out in the first place is unforgivable to me. Doesn’t matter what I think, though. This is about Hallie.
And for whatever reason, she wants to give Kevin a chance. If she needs me to pretend in order to feel more comfortable, then of course I will.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I shrug. “That’s what I’m here for.”
Her eyes sparkle in amusement. “You mean to tell me you have prior experience with fake betrothals?”
“No.” I shake my head with a grin. “You’re getting the Hallie Foster Special.”
She ducks her head at that, trying to hide her flustered expression.
At the register, Hallie loads her groceries onto the belt first. Abbie grabs the plastic divider and slaps it down, then starts adding the items I hand her.
When I glance up, I find Gordon watching us from near the front doors. I fight a scowl.
“I swear, he’s only gotten grumpier since I’ve been gone,” Hallie says, eyeing the store manager. “I wonder why he’s so miserable.”
“Maybe he’s sad,” Abbie offers. “Sometimes people are mean because they don’t know how to say they’re sad.”
You never truly know if you’re doing a good job as a parent, but moments like these remind me that Larissa and I must be doing something right. The fact that she can empathize with someone like Gordon makes me proud.
I wrap an arm around Abbie’s shoulders, hugging her to my side. “You’re absolutely right.”
Maybe this is my sign to cut Hallie’s father some slack, too. He’s obviously trying to set things right, and while that will never erase the pain Hallie was caused before, she deserves a good relationship with at least one of her parents. If Amanda can’t be that for her, maybe Kevin can.
We make idle chitchat with the cashier as he rings up our purchases. Then we load them back in the cart and head for the doors.
As we pass by the manager, Abbie waves. “Have a good night, Mr. Gordon!”
The grouchy look on his face transforms into one of shock. I bite back a smile.That’s right.Try banning my kid from the store now.I dare you.
“Did you see that?” Hallie asks once we’re outside. She pushes the cart so I can hold Abbie’s hand in the parking lot. “You totally threw him off.”
Abbie beams, swinging our joined hands. “Maybe now he’ll be happy more.”
I don’t think Gordon will be changing his entire outlook on life after one interaction with my six-year-old, but it’s a start.
“You never know how being kind might turn someone’s day around,” Hallie says. “And it makes you feel good, too.”
“I like feeling good,” Abbie says with a nod.
When we get to my truck, I start loading the groceries in, and Hallie helps Abbie into her seat. My daughter takes the opportunity to regale Hallie with the story of the made-up game she and some friends played at recess this morning. And Hallie listens to it all with a smile, asking questions when it’s appropriate.
My old feelings for Hallie don’t need any help resurfacing, but if they did, watching the way she interacts with Abbie would be enough. She doesn’t treat her like an annoying kid who’s just hanging around; she treats her like a full-fledged person who’s curious about the world.
Hallie loves my daughter, and I love her.
FIFTEEN
