Page 231 of Small Town Firsts
She laughed and clutched at his arms. “Carry me, Daddy?”
“You got it.” He turned back to me. “I’ll meet you up there?”
I nodded and blinked back the sudden wash of tears threatening again. God, hadn’t I cried enough last night?
I met Oliver at the chairs and noted that only three of them were reserved. None for me?
Oliver looked up from his phone. He took the program off the chair to his left. “I saved you a seat.”
“Where’s your father?” I sat down and crossed my legs under my long summer dress.
Oliver’s jaw flexed. “Not here.”
“Right.” I swallowed and turned my attention to Seth and Laurie. How many times had the elder Hamilton bailed on these things? And yet there was Seth, bent down talking to Laurie as the teacher lined them up. He never missed a single event for her. Somehow I knew he was giving her a pep talk. A single father completely devoted to his little girl.
Even if his father and mother had been less than ideal in that arena, Seth excelled at parenting. So much so that I was afraid I’d never be as much of a natural as he was.
He headed back with a sweet backwards wave to his daughter before he took the seat beside me. His knee bounced as he cracked his knuckles. He scrubbed his palm down his thigh with a laugh. “I’m nervous. Crazy, right?”
“First of many graduations.” I smiled up at him.
He flipped his hand, palm up and spread his fingers. “I guess you’ll just have to hold my hand through all of them.”
My throat clogged again, but I couldn’t resist the gesture. I laced my fingers with his and turned to watch our little girl.
For the first time, I felt as if we could truly be a unit and it scared the crap out of me.
SEVENTEEN
What was that old saying?You can never go home again? I was learning that applied even when you’d never left your hometown.
The old homestead wasn’t all you couldn’t return to. You also couldn’t go back to high school and pretend you were still eighteen when all you cared about were the three Ps—partying, Pabst, and pussy.
I still loved pussy. Ally’s in particular. I sat back in my chair and rubbed my forehead. Actually, I didn’t want any other.
Ever.
Christ, lightning bolts hurt. This one had jabbed me before, causing sizzling little bursts of revelation—usually quickly ignored—but now reality speared me between the eyes.
We weren’t just making a baby. We were making a life.
“I think we need to go out the night before the reunion and get fucking trashed,” JT said on the phone, and I grunted.
Not in agreement. Not in approval. Nope. Wasn’t gonna happen.
“I have a kid, you know. I can’t just spend the night getting lit.”
“So what? I might have a kid out there too, somewhere. You don’t see it slowing me down, man.” JT laughed heartily and I swallowed a sigh.
I’d called JT to rehash old times while I ate half a turkey sandwich at my desk in between meeting with clients. Afterward, I intended to bike ride down to the bank before my slate of appointments later in the afternoon. It was a nice day out. Maybe I’d even stop at the bakery and see if they had any of those half-moon cookies Ally liked. If I brought a couple to the diner, maybe she’d soften up enough to talk to me.
It had been several days since the graduation. Surely by now she had to be over the whole wanting space thing she’d mentioned the day we’d made breakfast.
Her weirdness had started right around when she’d found that reunion invitation. But that didn’t make sense. She’d had a good time in high school too. Or so I’d thought.
All I knew was that right now, JT wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t feeling the old times gig as much as I’d expected. Maybe because the best part of my past was also part of my present—and hopefully my future.
“Yeah, well, mine lives with me, and I’m not going out to get wasted. She’s already spent the night with her uncle once this month.”
