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A group of people bustle in and out of the living area, and Mrs. Reynolds leaves me to socialize. Deacon clears his throat. "Can I offer you a drink? We've got wine, iced tea, lemonade, some water..."
"I can get it, but thank you."
I move to the bar cart, where glasses have been laid out. I fill a small glass with ice, which still clicks in the otherwise quietroom, and pour myself a glass of sweet tea. When I turn around, Sasha is standing a few feet away with a shy smile on her face.
"Hey there, sweetheart." I drink a bit of tea and set it down. "Look how pretty you are. That dress is adorable."
She tugs at the full skirt and rocks back on her heels. "It's pink."
"It sure is. Is that your favorite color?"
"Sasha loves everything pink." Deacon answers for her, scooping her up into his arms and planting a kiss on her cheek. She giggles and her sweet voice echoes through the room. "You should see her room. An explosion of pink."
"Dad! It's not that pink!" Sasha laughs, tapping her hands on his shoulders.
"No?" he asks in mock surprise. "Are you sure?"
She laughs, and he sets her down so she can run off to play with her toys. I grin widely and cross my arms as I watch her flit through the room like an angel. "She is the most beautiful little girl."
Deacon watches her fondly, and I see the other side of him again. The way he looks at her tugs at my heart, like she's the light of his life, like his whole world is wrapped up in those bouncing curls.
"I'm trying to keep her life as normal as possible." He sighs heavily and brushes his hand through his hair. "The more things remain the same for her, the easier it is for her to cope with the transition."
I roll the words over in my brain and study his body language. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes follow his daughter, watching to make sure she's okay. "Is she having trouble adjusting?"
Geez, I keep asking questions before I even think about it. But he doesn't seem to mind talking about Sasha, just not her mother.
He sighs and gives me a little smile. "It's gone better than I expected so far. But it's still hard at times. She's a good girl, but she has some issues with change. She is so shy and keeps her distance, and she's had trouble making friends in the past. Most of the time she keeps her nose in a book or her drawing pad, and she's content with that."
I shake my head and tut. "She's adorable and smart. There's nothing wrong with that. She'll make friends when she finds her people. We can't all be social butterflies, Deacon. If you remember, I was quiet growing up myself up until high school. I spent most of middle school hiding out. It wasn’t until I got into track that I found my tribe and began to come out of my shell."
He tilts his head as if he's confused. I have to laugh. "Seriously? Didn’t you notice at all? Or did you just have too much going on for your mind to focus on anyone other than Deacon Reynolds?"
A bit of pink runs up his neck to stain his cheeks. "Ah, well. Maybe. I always admired your brains and drive, but I didn’t know you were shy, though. To me you came off a little like you were superior.”
I bite my lip. Have I gotten it all wrong, or is he deflecting? "Me, superior? No way, I never thought that. I was focused, intense, most people knew that. I was working so hard to be the best in school and sports, spending all of my effort on it. Only you gave me a hard time."
I think about stopping right there, but Deacon looks like he's really listening. I've never gotten to tell him how I felt before. Ten years late is better than never.
“When I got into high school, track gave me the confidence boost I needed, and I found great friends. Even then, though, you never let up. Oh well. It doesn't matter now." I give him a playful poke in the ribs to lighten the mood a bit, which has turned serious quickly.
Deacon's shoulders sag as I finish my drink. He reaches for my glass and pours a bit more tea. "Listen. I really was an idiot. I can't believe how mistaken I was. Now that I have Sasha, I would kick any boy's butt that would treat her the way I treated you. I just wish I would have realized how wrong it was back then."
I shake my head to show I'm thankful for his words and my earrings dance on either side of my face. Deacon really didn't have any idea how much he’s impacted me over the years. I'm still thinking of how to respond when he reaches out to touch my arm, rendering me speechless with a shock of electricity.
My gaze instantly shifts to the subtle skin-on-skin contact, a sensation I've never experienced with him as an adult. Who knew something so small could create such a reaction inside my body. I read something once about 'the butterfly effect,' the idea that the simple flapping of their wings could initiate a series of events, even changing the weather or the ocean.
I can confidently say there may have been a tidal wave on the other side of the world just now. Thankfully, Mrs. Reynolds calls him over to help her reach something up high before any more global weather alterations occur.
I take a breath to settle myself and run my eyes over the room. It's filled with important guests, including local officials and church pastors. I know most of them. But when I see Sasha sitting in a corner hugging her stuffed elephant, I decide she's the most interesting one among them.
The other guests overlook her, and she seems to prefer to be alone. But I know how desperate she must be to play deep down. Deacon looks busy, so I crouch down and take a seat next to her.
"Hi there. Why are you hiding back here?" I ask gently. "Are you not enjoying the party?"
She shakes her head. "There's a lot of strangers here."
"Yes, there are. We're friends though, right? Would you like to draw with me? Your daddy says you love art. I just so happento know where your grandma keeps the crayons and drawing paper. Come on."
