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Marley got up and approached Shea, wrapping her arms around Shea’s waist and looking up at her.
“Do you want to come to my sleepover?”
It was all I could do not to look at Shea. A sleepover sounded like a damn good idea to me.
“I...might,” Shea said, clearly caught off guard. “But for now, I have to get back to the kitchen.”
She turned to leave and Spencer said, “Hey, what about Dad?”
“What do you mean?” Shea asked, looking at me.
“You didn’t say goodbye to Dad.”
Her expression softened and she walked over to me. “Well, we can’t have that.”
My pulse pounded as I hugged her, the familiar coconut scent of her shampoo making me wish for more than a hug.
“Thanks for this,” I said in her ear.
“You’re welcome.”
I reluctantly released her and she held my gaze for a couple of seconds before turning to go. Instinct told me to chase after her, to not let go of the best woman I’d ever known because the timing was off.
I didn’t, though. Instead, I watched her walk back to the kitchen, not sitting back down until the door had closed behind her.
“Shea is beautiful,” Spencer said.
“Yes, she is.”
I wasn’t sure who was crazier about Shea—me or my son. But I had a feeling I was going to be the one who missed her the most.
“Your utensil drawer should always be close to the dishwasher,” my mom said that evening as she unloaded cutlery from a kitchen drawer.
“You know more than I do about that stuff, so rearrange anything you want,” I said. “I’m ordering the pizza soon. What do you guys like on yours?”
“If you’re ordering from Northern Lights, we like Sven’s Special.”
“I love that place, but I’m just curious. Does any other place deliver?”
“No, but the Kirby’s gas station has delicious pizza and it’s a lot cheaper than Northern Lights if you don’t mind picking it up.”
My parents had refused every financial gift I’d ever tried to give them. They were too proud to accept it, preferring to pay their own way. I knew they were financially secure, but I still wished they’d let me help out.
“I’ll remember that,” I said.
“Grandma, let’s read stories,” Marley said as she walked into the kitchen.
My mom put down the forks in her hand. “I’m on my way, granddaughter!”
I’d built a massive house with six bedrooms. We each had a bedroom, there were two guest rooms, and the kids had a shared space with a castle built into one wall that served as a play area and reading nook for now, pillows covering the floor inside the castle. The builder had designed that room to be converted into a study room when the kids got older.
Our basement had a theater room, a game room and a room for my hockey memorabilia. The main level was open, smelling of fresh-cut wood and painted light gray with white woodwork.
I wanted to show it to Shea. I wanted to sit with her in the rocking chairs on my deck and hear about her day while we watched the sun setting over the lake.
“You look lost in thought,” my dad said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Just thinking about everything it took to get here.”
