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“A lot.” Parker looked toward the house, shaking his head when he saw everyone in the windows. “How bad is it going to be when I go in there?”
“Bad,” Ian and I said in unison.
Dad smiled. “If she’s feeling generous, your mom might save you from the worst of it with your sisters. But on the plus side, you can meet Cameron’s … friend.”
Parker’s eyebrows rose slowly. “No shit?”
I shoved at his shoulder. “Go inside. I’m waiting out here until the dust settles. Raise a white flag if they let you through alive.”
Ian laughed, Parker flipped me off, and Dad shook his head. “There goes my sweet moment with my sons,” he muttered.
“You’ll get a few more,” I told him. “You’re not going anywhere just yet, Dad.”
He gripped my hand, then nodded jerkily. “You’re right, son. You’re right.”
Chapter 31
Cameron
The rest of the day and into the next was so perfect, it felt scripted.
With warm breezes, sunny, bright blue skies, and energy that we hadn’t seen out of him in weeks, we were able to take Dad down to the festival and enjoy the kind of time our family hadn’t had together in years.
Olive jumped from one adult to the next, realizing quickly that she had us all wrapped around her finger, dragging one aunt or uncle after another to a booth with baked goods she wanted to devour, homemade crafts she desperately wanted to buy.
“Oh my gosh, who bought her the donuts?” Greer hissed. “Ian just gave her some of that cake!”
Olive happily munched on a cinnamon sugar donut, a second one gripped tight in her hand.
Parker’s eyes went wide, and he tucked the telltale brown bag behind his back. “Wasn’t me.”
Greer rolled her eyes. “Well you two can deal with her tonight when she never goes to sleep because she’s so hopped up on sugar.”
Ivy was at an artisan’s stall with Poppy, pointing out some of the watercolors she liked. Even though we’d been careful not to touch through lunch, and I allowed her the space to get to know Adaline and Lydia, we never went more than a few minutes without a quick jolt of eye contact.
I’m right here.
That was what each one felt like. A small reminder that she was still checking in with me.
Erik and Lydia left the picnic table where Mom and Dad were parked. Dad soaked in the sun, chatting with friends and neighbors that he hadn’t seen in a while. He looked tired but good.
Parker was occasionally approached by someone who wanted a picture or autograph, as was Greer’s husband, Beckett. They handled each interaction with grace even though all of our attention was fixed firmly on Dad having a good weekend.
Ivy finished purchasing a piece of art and tucked it under her arm while she approached. I studied her face, my muscles aching with the desire to slide my hands over her back and kiss her pink mouth, the one currently in a soft, almost-smile.
“What?” I asked quietly. Our shoulders brushed as she pulled the painting out to show me. It was a bold watercolor, slashes of greens and blacks and browns that formed the peaks of the mountains and trees. “I like that.”
She pushed it back into the bag. “I find myself in a strange predicament, Cameron.”
“What’s that?”
Her eyes traveled over the line of vendor tents, the brightly colored banners stretched from post to post, the people milling around the bright green field and through the shops along Main Street. “This is entirely wholesome and delightful.”
I smothered a smile. “It is.”
“Everyone is happy.”
She said it like it was a question.
