Inside that building, every parent in town will watch me walk in with the child they all know and without the man they all think I’m dating.
If Colby doesn’t come, which he probably won’t, which would be fine…
It would be reasonable.
It would be normal.
It would also crush Jillie.
“Do you think he’ll sit in the tiny chairs?” she asks.
“I’m sure they’ll have regular chairs too.”
“No, they won’t. Grown-ups suffer at school events. Miss Angie said.”
“Miss Angie said that?”
“She said it with her face.”
I glance at her in the rearview mirror.
She is wearing a red velvet dress, white tights, and sparkly shoes she has declared “fancy but not running-safe.” Her pink coat is zipped all the way to her chin, and her hair is pulled into two curls that will not survive the evening.
Her eyes are bright and full of that hopeful kind of trust children give the world before the world earns it.
My chest tightens.
“Jillie,” I say carefully, “you know Colby is very busy.”
“I know.”
“And sometimes grown-ups have things they can’t get out of.”
“I know.”
“So, if he can’t come tonight, that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to.”
Her little face stills. And there it is. The mistake. The way hope can become fear in an instant.
“Did he say he wasn’t coming?” she asks.
“No.” I soften my voice. “No, baby. I’m just saying—”
“You’re saying maybe he’ll leave.”
The words land like a slap.
I pull into the school parking lot and shift into park.
For a moment, I can’t move. Because no matter how carefully I try to build walls around her heart, she still notices the shape of every missing person.
Her biological father left before she could hold onto memory. Darren stayed just long enough to teach her that men could leave twice. And now here I am, pretending I can manage the emotional fallout of Colby Reid walking through our lives like temporary winter magic.
I turn in my seat. “I’m saying grown-up schedules can be complicated.”
She studies me. Too wise. Too small. Then she nods, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
Before I can say anything else, someone knocks lightly on my driver’s side window.
