Epilogue #3
“I love you,” I murmured, bending low. “I already love you.” I met Sunny’s tender stare. “Thank you.”
Sunny covered my hand with hers. Then she smiled.
And all was right with my world.
FOUR YEARS LATER
I turned my chair, staring across the street, the stress of the last meeting melting away.
Sitting at the table in the window of the bakery across the street was my daughter.
The light caught her golden curls, her feet swinging furiously as she babbled away to my wife, who was seated across from her.
My daughter clutched something in her hand, and I was certain it would be a biscuit, slathered in jam and butter. Like me, that was her favorite.
I grabbed my phone and texted Sunny. She read my text and leaned over the table to Amanda, no doubt giving her my message.
Amanda immediately turned to the window, waving wildly.
Laughing, I stood close to the window and waved back.
I was about to get up and go join them when my phone rang, and with a sigh, I turned away from the window, shooting off another text before answering.
Tell her Daddy misses her and can’t wait to see her.
I answered the call, wanting to finish up and head over to the bakery. My family was there, and that was where I wanted to be. I always wanted to be with them.
There were now four willow trees out in front of our house.
The day Amanda Sophie was born was one of the greatest days of my life. When her brother, Chase Gerald, followed a couple of months ago, my life was complete. The house buzzed constantly.
I had hated to return to work, although I knew it was necessary. But I planned on working from home more. Sunny only went into the bakery now every so often. Mandy loved going and seeing all her “friends,” reigning like the little princess she was from her table.
As quickly as possible, I finished up the call and turned back to the window, disappointed to see the table empty. Sunny must have made the visit a short one, and I wondered if Chase was fussy again today. He was far more vocal and demanding than Amanda had been as a baby.
I focused on my work, determined to get it done and head home.
My office door opened, and I glanced up, expecting Abby, hoping to see Sunny, confused when the open door was empty.
Using my finger, I hooked the edge of the laptop, pulling it down, confusion changing to delight when I saw my daughter peeking through the open door.
“Daddy!” she crowed, bursting in.
I rounded the desk and bent low as she rushed toward me.
I caught her in my arms, twirling her the way she loved.
Her happy laughter filled the room, making me laugh as well.
She always did. She had Sunny’s coloring and stature—tiny and perfect—but my blue eyes.
Freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, and I loved to kiss each one, making her giggle.
She cupped my face with her tiny hands, her eyes dancing. “Hi!”
“Hi yourself.” I looked at the pass dangling from her hands.
She loved to be grown up and be the one to swipe the pass to get into the building or use the key at home.
Anything to prove she was capable—not only had she inherited Sunny’s looks, she had also inherited Sunny’s stubborn streak.
Watching the two of them go head-to-head at times was vastly amusing.
Amanda had been ahead of the curve her entire life. Aware of her surroundings early in life. Walking before she should, talking in full sentences while others her age jabbered. I encouraged her all the time. She constantly amazed me.
I looked toward the open door. “Where is Mommy?”
She pointed behind me. “Da bakery.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. “What? Is Abby with you?”
She furrowed her little brow. “No,” she explained slowly, as if I were the child and she the adult. “I took da key and came to see you, Daddy. Mommy say you miss me. Now you not have to.”
“Amanda Webber,” I said in my sternest voice. “How did you get here?”
“I walked.” She shook her head as if I was slow. “I waited for da little man to say it was okay, and I crossed da street and came upstairs. Just like you taught me.”
I lunged for my phone, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Somehow, while Sunny was busy, no doubt with Chase, my daughter decided to slip away and simply come see me.
By herself. Crossing at the crosswalk the way we taught her, waiting for the little man to appear instead of the hand that said stop. She even thought to bring the key.
She thought it out and did it. By herself. At not even four years of age.
We were toast.
My phone rang before I could dial, and I answered without looking who it was.
“She’s here. With me.”
Sunny’s panicked voice stuttered in relief, her words rushed.
“Chase needed to be changed. She was eating her biscuit, chatting to Lori. When I came out, she was gone—I thought she went to the kitchen. But she wasn’t there.
She took the keys, Linc! She took my keys!
I couldn’t find her!” Her voice rose at the end.
“And used them properly,” I muttered. “I’ll talk to her. She’s fine, Sunny.”
I heard her muffled sob.
“Sit down. I’ll be there in a moment,” I instructed gently. “I’ll talk to her first.”
“Okay.”
I sat down heavily, still holding Mandy. Her wide grin faded as she looked at me. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”
I sat her on the desk in front of me. Then I stood, needing to be the scarier Dad for this conversation.
“Baby, you can’t leave the bakery without an adult. Ever. Do you understand?”
“But I’m a big girl. You said so.”
I had. On many occasions. I praised her. Cajoled her.
“You don’t need a sippy cup. You’re a big girl now.”
“You did that all on your own? What a big girl you are!”
“No, you don’t sleep in a crib. That’s for Chase. You’re a big girl and a big sister.”
Now those words had come back to bite me in the ass.
I improvised.
“You can’t leave anywhere without an adult until you’re this high.” I held my hand off the floor to my shoulder. “It’s the law.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” Then she pursed her lips. “Mommy isn’t dat tall, and she leaves all da time!”
She was too freaking smart.
“Mommy is an adult. The law changes when you are twenty-one.”
That shut her up—for a minute.
“Sometimes Jesse comes to da bakery, and he isn’t dat tall.”
“He’s a boy. It’s different.”
“It always is,” Sunny sighed, walking in holding Chase’s carrier. I could see the lingering panic on her face. Her eyes were bright with tears and rimmed in red.
I took the carrier, and she sat in front of Amanda. “You scared Mommy,” she said quietly. “You shouldn’t have left the bakery alone. Even to go see Daddy.”
The sight of my wife’s tears did way more than my warning for Amanda. Her little face was shocked. “Mommy, why you cry?”
“Because I couldn’t find you, Mandy. You have to promise me never to do that again. Ever.”
“I promise.” Amanda flung herself into Sunny’s arms. “I promise, Mommy!”
I watched the little tableau with a lump in my throat.
We knew Amanda was adventuresome and brave.
And far too smart. Everyone in town knew who she was, and being off-season, the town was quiet.
Which was one reason she’d skipped along undetected.
I doubted she had been in much danger, but Sunny was right.
She couldn’t be slipping out to see me or anyone else. We needed to nip this in the bud.
“You need to be punished for this, Amanda,” I said.
Her eyes grew round with worry. I’d never used that word before now. I swallowed hard.
“No dessert tonight,” I proclaimed. “And no TV either for the rest of the day.”
She looked at Sunny, who nodded in agreement.
“Okay.”
“You go sit at Abby’s desk while I talk to your mother.”
She slipped off Sunny’s knee and shuffled past me, gazing up in sorrow. “I sorry, Daddy.”
I stroked her head. “I know, baby.”
“I play with Chase?”
I took the carrier to the desk and set it beside the table. “I’ll be right over there.”
“Okay.” She bent over, whispering to Chase. She always did that, and I often wondered what secrets she was sharing.
I pulled Sunny into my arms and held her. “You okay?”
She sighed, burrowing closer. I sat down and tucked her onto my lap. We both needed to be close.
“That hurt?” she asked. “Saying the word punishment?”
“Yeah, it did.”
“Pretty lame punishment, Daddy. She got off easy.”
“It was all I could come up with on the spur of the moment. It’s my first time, you know. Cut me some slack.”
She smirked. “I think we’ll find we’ll need some more, ah, guidelines.”
“Christ, she’s too smart. All happy and proud, walking in, clutching your pass, coming to see me,” I muttered. “Telling me how she waited for the little man before crossing the street.”
Sunny covered a laugh behind her hand. “Lori said the back door buzzed, so she went to let in the supplier. She told Mandy she’d be right back. She’s sat there having her snack numerous times—she’s never done this before.”
I sighed. “I’d never waved to her before and said I missed her. I’m sure the idea popped into her head. I think we’re entering new territory here.” I glanced over at Amanda and groaned. “And she’ll teach Chase. She’s already started.”
Sunny followed my gaze. “You said no TV. She’s streaming.”
I put my lips close to her ear. “She’d tell us it’s a computer, therefore different.”
“We are so screwed,” Sunny sighed.
I watched Amanda as she sat on the floor, pointing out funny things on the screen to Chase. She’d pulled Abby’s laptop down with her, signing in, no doubt using the password Abby shared with her at some point.
Amanda knew she was bending the rules, and I tried not to find delight in my little rebel of a daughter. She knew I would take away the computer, and she would surrender it with no fuss, but until then, she would enjoy her time with her brother.
And the sight of it made me smile.
“We are screwed,” I agreed.