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“She might have been too young to know to be scared. If it’s the noise that bothers her, you can always get her noise-canceling headphones.” I’d seen a few kids wearing those in the crowd.
“I thought it would be something nice we could do. I had no idea she’d get scared.”
“It’s not your fault. Kids’ preferences change.” I’d seen that over the years with Evie. She liked apples one day, and the next day, they were gross.
Harper sighed long and hard, as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“I had a good time.” Just being close to Harper and watching the joy on Evie’s face as she danced to the music was enough for me.
“Yeah?” Harper asked.
I let Evie down when the fireworks were a distant popping noise, and she asked, “Can we get ice cream?”
“I don’t see why not,” I said before realizing too late it wasn’t my call. “Is that one of those moments when I should have asked you first?”
She laughed easily. “Probably. But it’s okay. We can get ice cream.” Then she stiffened. “Unless you have other plans.”
“You two are my plans this evening,” I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek and wishing I could do more.
We debated on ice cream stores before stopping at the newest one, a fountain soda shop. Evie opted for a root beer float, and both Harper and I got the lemon-lime one with vanilla ice cream.
“We love this place,” Harper said.
“You come here a lot?” I asked her, curious to know more about them when they were by themselves.
Harper nodded. “We walk to the playground and stop here afterward.”
I wondered if she did special things to make up for other stuff that Evie was missing out on—a father, a single-family house, and an extended family. Harper never mentioned her grandparents or even her father.
“Are you close to your mother’s family?” I asked.
“Mom didn’t speak to her parents. I think they were upset when she got pregnant. That’s my guess, anyway.”
“They’ve never reached out to you?”
She shook her head. “That’s why I always thought her story was true. Honestly, if they wanted to find us, they could have.”
“Probably.”
“And I don’t know who my father is,” Harper said so quietly that Evie, who was writing on a child’s chalkboard nearby, wouldn’t hear.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can’t miss what I never had.”
I highly doubted that, but I didn’t call her out on it. I didn’t want to make her feel worse. But I couldn’t imagine life without my father. He taught me how to ride a bike, how to make my first pizza, and how to treat a woman right. I owed everything to him. That’s why it was important for him to approve my plans for the restaurant going forward.
“Would you want to learn how to make a pizza?” I asked, suddenly wanting to give Evie everything she was missing.
At Harper’s raised brow, I added, “You could come in early on Sunday before the restaurant opens.”
It was one of my fondest memories of my father and the pizzeria, the time he spent teaching me things. How to make the perfect crust for pizza and bread for the subs. He believed in using the freshest ingredients and never skimped on anything due to cost. At the same time, he liked to keep things simple. He’d always say there’s nothing fancy about making pizza and subs. I always thought creating amazing food had a beautiful quality to it.
Evie raised her head. “I can make my own?”
“That’s right,” I said to her, and I couldn’t resist asking Harper, “How about you? Would you like it too?”
She nodded and opened her mouth to say something, but the waitress arrived with a tray of our drinks and set them in front of us before she could.
