Page 79 of Silver Player

My brows rise at the sudden spark of enthusiasm in my father’s voice. Does he mean it? Will he give Sadie a chance? I stand and follow his retreat. If I ever had fantasies about taking a girl in that room, they’ve all been washed away by Roxanne on top of me.

Dammit. I can’t think of these things right now, and I instantly stop once I descend the stairs and reach the edge of the living room. My daughter is playing the piano with my mother. My father stands to the side of Momma, hand coming to her shoulder, and she reaches up to quickly pat it before returning her fingers to the instrument which was a wedding present from her mother to her. The younger Harrington generation wasn’t very accomplished as musicians, so it startles me to see Sadie’s nimble fingers racing over the keys. My eyes wander the room for Roxanne who stands on the opposite side, listening with an expression I can’t read, and worry even if I could interpret it, it wouldn’t be good.

+ + +

Eventually, I drive Roxie and Sadie home, relief hitting me hard once we leave my childhood one.

Well, at least that’s over.

As we pull into the parking lot behind the bookstore, the familiar feeling I always have when I leave the girls behind fills my chest. I don’t want to go home alone. Actually, I’d like to bring them to my house just outside of town.

Why haven’t I done that yet?

As I park, the truck idles, and Roxie reaches for the handle.

“Monday at three thirty,” I say as I nod to Sadie.

“See you then,” she says, slipping out after her aunt. “Thanks for dinner. It was…interesting.”

I chuckle at her sarcastic gratitude. “Just trying to keep it…interesting.” Then I add, “Hey Roxie, can you stay a minute?”

Sadie pauses, looking up at her aunt, and something silent passes between them. I decide it’s a girl thing, and I look away, glancing over the steering wheel while I wait. Sadie’s legs rush up the back steps, and Roxie climbs back into my truck.

“What’s up?” she says all casual, like she wasn’t just dry-humping me when my dad walked into my old bedroom.

“I wanted to check in about Sadie. Did she tell you she’d be working for me?”

“What? When?”

“Monday. At three thirty.” After Sadie told me about her possible connection to the bookstore and the flower shop robberies, I decide to anonymously cover the damages for each of the businesses. There wasn’t physical vandalism as much as property violation, loss of petty cash, and a level of distrust. Roxie’s struggling to understand Sadie. Hetty might not forgive. Talking to Clyde made it clear I need Sadie to pay in some way for what she’s done, even if only an accomplice to the thefts, and I need to start introducing her to the community with a title. “I’m going to start telling everyone who she is to me.”

Roxie looks over at me and arches one brow, so I clarify although she doesn’t need the clarification. “My daughter.”

She slowly smiles. “That’s awesome, William.”

Oh Lord, here comes the formality again.

“Well, Roxie…” I drag out her nickname. “I was also wondering if I might have the pleasure of your company for dinner this week. Just us.”

Her head shoots upward. “Like a date?”

Sure. “Yeah, sure, a date.”

Her mouth falls open, and I’m waiting for her to exclaim, I thought you didn’t date. She isn’t wrong. It’s just dinner, but we can call it whatever she wishes. Date as a label works for me. Instead, her mouth clamps shut.

“It doesn’t have to be fancy.” I pause. “On second thought, yes, let’s make it fancy. The Patio.” It’s a steak place in an old house near the municipal buildings. “Dress up.” I eye her full skirt. She has this boho chic look, as my sister calls it, no matter the occasion. Full skirts. Tall or short boots. T-shirts. Necklaces and bracelets. I like it all on her. I’d like it better off. “Let’s say Friday night.”

“I’m not sure I should leave Sadie alone.” We both know what she means. The concern she’ll run is real.

“Maybe she can spend the night at Charlie’s. Lucy’s just a little enthusiastic she has a cousin closer to her age.” I smile when I think of my niece.

“Nine and sixteen is a big difference, but yes, she did seem very receptive to Sadie.” Versus my mother, my father…

“I don’t really want to talk about tonight yet,” I say, looking back through the dark windshield.

“I understand.”

Does she? As I turn back to her, she might be the only one who can understand.