AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah, she got a couple of offers. She’s trying to decide whether she wants to auction it off.”
After we got married, Claire decided that the best path for her to help others while still being able to take care of her family—and herself—would be to write about her experience in the foster care system. It took her four and a half years to write the book, but it took less than four months for her to find a literary agent who believed in her story. I’ve always known that she would become the kind of person that my children would be proud to call “Mom.”
“Are you going to tell everyone?” I ask.
“Not yet. I want to have a signed contract before I tell them.”
“Always playing it cool,” I say, as I turn right onto Lake Park Blvd.
“I learned from the best.”
When we were trying to decide where to buy a summer home on the coast, Claire insisted on having something right on the beach. Unfortunately, there was nothing available in Carolina Beach at the time. But I think it worked out to our advantage. Wrightsville Beach is much cleaner than Carolina Beach, which makes it much healthier for the kids. The only reason we’re making the drive to Carolina Beach today is because of the music festival. I promised a local radio station that I would be there to sign autographs for half an hour.
I find a spot to park and pull on my baseball cap and some sunglasses before I exit the car. Claire gets the kids out of the backseat while I grab the cooler and the beach bag.
“Do you want to go check in with Pete right now or can you just call him?” Claire asks.
“I’ll call him once we find a place to sit. This place is a fucking madhouse.”
The sand and water are packed with bodies and I don’t like the idea of walking through this with my kids.
“Let’s go further down away from this. This is crazy.”
“But then you’ll be so far from the booths,” Claire replies.
“I’m not taking the kids in there.”
A girl in a bikini bumps into the cooler I’m carrying as she passes us and I nearly lose my grip on it. “Sorry,” she says, her gaze lingering on my face for a moment before she continues.
Why the fuck did I agree to come here?
“Let’s just go to the booth and we can go back to the house for a little while after that.”
“You’re not supposed to sign for another two hours.”
“Plans change. I’m not staying here or we’re going to get mobbed.”
I stuff everything back into the trunk and we each carry one of the kids as we head for the booths.
“You’re going to feel guilty about this later,” Claire says.
I can’t see her eyes under the sunglasses or the floppy hat, but the smirk she’s wearing makes me want to smack her ass. She knows me too well.
“Are you going to help me sign autographs?” I ask Jimi and she nods as she adjusts her pink sunglasses. “Make sure you sign Princess Jimi. Okay?”
“I don’t know how to write cursive.”
“That’s okay, baby. You can print your name like your teacher taught you and everyone will love it.”
Claire sits a few feet behind us in the booth and Jimi sits on my lap as I sign autographs for nearly an hour to make up for the time change. Jimi is too embarrassed to sign anything, so she just clings to my neck like a little monkey as I work. I’m about to call it a day, when a blonde girl about Jimi’s age, maybe a year or two older wanders over to our booth.
“Do you want an autograph?” Pete says from where he sits next to me.
The little girl stares at Jimi, like she can’t believe I’m letting this little girl hug me.
“Hey, princess, I think somebody wants your autograph.” I pry Jimi’s arms from my neck and she faces forward as she sits on my lap. I put my black marker in her hand and grab one of the promo pictures the station brought.
“Can I put a heart?” Jimi whispers to me.
“Of course, you can,” I reply, then I look at the girl standing before us. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
She looks up at me and smiles. “Kaia. K-A-I-A.”
I whip my head around to see if Claire heard that and she’s staring at me with her mouth hanging open.
Jimi concentrates hard as she draws a shaky heart then begins to print her name next to it. When she finishes, she puts down the marker and turns her face into my chest again, too embarrassed to see what Kaia thinks of her autograph.
“It’s beautiful, princess,” I assure her. “Do you like it, Kaia?”
“Kaia, what are you doing?”
The relief on the blonde woman’s face when she finds Kaia is palpable. I’ve never seen Lindsay, but this must be her, because her face goes a little pale when she sees me—and not because I’m Chris Knight. It’s because I’m Claire’s husband.
Jimi takes her face out of my chest to look at Kaia again, as if she can sense that the energy has shifted. “Daddy, did she like it?”
There are moments in life, and they happen so infrequently that they tend to really stand out, when life hands you the gift of perspective. Sometimes, we forget to show our appreciation. Sometimes, we get our priorities mixed up. And, sometimes, we forget how far we’ve come. But life always has a way of nudging you to remind you about these important things.
“Yes, baby. She liked it,” I reply.
And as Kaia hugs the picture to her chest, I realize the number of things that had to happen for my daughter to give Adam’s daughter this small token of affection: a shaky heart and a longing for her approval.
“I’m proud of you,” I whisper in Jimi’s ear.
“Can I go skating now?” she asks as Lindsay stands behind Kaia with her arms wrapped around her shoulders.
“Just a minute, baby.”
Looking over my shoulder, I nod at Claire for her to join me at the table. I hold my hand out to Lindsay and she glances at Claire before she takes it.
“I’m Chris.”
“Lindsay.”
Claire stands next to me with Junior in one arm as she holds out her hand. “Hi, Lindsay. It’s good to see you again.”
