Fiona walked right up to me and stuck out her hand. “Hello. I'm Fiona. I'm his daughter. I'm eight, but really, I'm practically nine. Only thirty-seven more days until my birthday.”
I shook her small cold hand, a bit mesmerized. Fiona was not only a beautiful girl, with bright pink cheeks, shocking blue-gray eyes, and a thick head of wavy hair. I could see her Dad in there. It was plain as day. And it made me love her from the very first minute. “I’m Katherine. I'm nearly thirty-three, but I don't like to talk about it too much.”
Fiona waved it off. “That's nothing. Dad's forty.”
“So I've heard.”
Eamon cleared his throat. “Katherine, Rachel. Rachel, this is Katherine.”
"I finally meet the famous Katherine." Rachel pulled off a fluffy mitten and shook my hand. She was much more petite than I'd imagined. Probably only an inch or two above five feet. She was also more beautiful in person than I'd bargained on—gorgeous dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. No wonder Eamon had wanted her for his wife.
“You must have me confused with someone else. I'm definitely not famous. That'd be your husband.”Shit.I shook my head. “I mean your ex-husband. That would be Eamon.” I was officially bungling this. I hoped to God that Eamon wasn't embarrassed by me. “Really I'm more infamous than anything.”
“He's talked about you forever,” Rachel said.
I glanced over at Eamon and his eyebrows popped up, but he didn't say anything. I still couldn't comprehend that Eamon had ever spoken a single word about me to anyone. “It's very nice to meet you.”
“And you as well.”
Fiona grabbed my hand. “Katherine, come play.”
I shuffled along, looking back at Eamon. “I’ll be over here, playing.”
“Have fun!”
Fiona was a whirlwind, climbing ladders and swooping down slides, spinning and skipping and twirling in constant motion. I was determined to keep up with her. All those hours at the gym had to be worth something. She led and I followed, like Alice shadowing the white rabbit down the hole into Wonderland. She giggled at nearly everything. It was contagious. Once I started laughing, I couldn't stop, cold air rushing in and out of my lungs. She did outrun me eventually.
“Fiona. I need a sec.” I leaned against the play structure, gasping. “And I keep hitting my head on that bar above the slide.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, standing straight as a pin. “Let's go on the swings. It's practically like having a rest.”
Practically. We wound our way over and found two at the far end, giving us a straight view of Rachel and Eamon. They were sitting on the same bench, but each at their respective end. Rachel had her legs and arms crossed. Eamon was on the edge of his seat, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. There was some conversation going back and forth between them, but it wasn't much. There were certainly long stretches when no words were uttered. That was when I sensed the void between them—the place where whatever love they'd shared must have died.
“Do you like my dad?” Fiona whizzed past me on the swing.
“I do. I like him a lot.” I was taking a more leisurely approach to this pursuit. My legs and face were freezing.
“My mam says you've known each other a long time. Since before she knew him.”
“That's true. But we've been apart for a long time, too.”
Fiona suddenly dragged her feet across the playground blacktop. “Why were you apart? If you liked each other?”
I came to a stop, too. “Bad timing, I suppose. Plus, you should be happy I left. You might not have been born otherwise.”
Fiona tilted her head and stared at me much in the way her father could, making me feel like she could see right inside my head. “I would've found a way to be born. I can't imagine not being here.”
I found myself marveling at her, even after only a half hour. What an amazing way to look at the world. She was nearly nine, halfway between my age and Amy's when we lost our mom. Had we been like her? So precocious and comfortable in our own skin? Somehow, I doubted it, especially of myself.
“Fiona, come here. I want to see you,” Eamon called.
She ran right to him, but I took my time, wanting to give them their space. Right away, she climbed up onto his lap and starting talking a million miles a minute. That reminded me of Amy.
“Did you and Katherine have fun?” Eamon asked.
“I did. I like her, Dad.” Fiona's forehead crinkled. “I hope that's okay with you, Mam.”
Rachel laughed. “Yeah. Perfectly okay with me.” Her answer had a definite undertone ofHe's yours. You can have him.
