Chapter 25 Those Important Steps in Summer
Those Important Steps in Summer
Erin
Matilda blinked drooping eyes. “Where go?”
Callan snapped off the seat belt and shimmied her out of the booster. With an easy lift, he settled her against his chest. “Mim sent me a message saying she has a surprise for you up at the big house.” The car door closed with a bump of his hip.
She yawned. “Matilda… like… surprises.” She buried her head in his shirt.
The crushed pebble driveway crackled under my feet. I walked beside Callan, my hand on his shoulder. Soft blue eyes turned. He appreciated the little signs of affection.
“Warm me up with a little kiss?” He bent his neck so his cheek was close enough.
It was so easy to love Callan. He’d watched me reapply my lipstick in the car. He knew a mark would be left, but his smile only widened after my lips pressed into the pale stubble on his jaw. Grinning, he returned the favor.
“So,” I said. “What’s the surprise?”
“If I knew, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Whatever it was, Mim was involved. She waited at the front door, waving hello as we made our way up the stairs. My eyes widened. Simon stood next to her. Now, that was a surprise. He hardly ever hovered around the house these days.
Callan’s steps slowed.
The front portico narrowed into an awkward bubble with the two men refusing to look at each other. This was the first time they’d stood face-to-face since their fight. Simon wasn’t interested in arguing again. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded his hello without looking up.
Callan seemed just as unsure how to react. “What’s, uh… going on?” he asked.
“Well…” Mim said. “We’ve been workin’ on a secret project. A surprise for our little Til.”
I flicked Callan a confused look. He shrugged.
O…kay.
“Come see.” Mim waved at us to follow her into the house.
When we landed at the top of the stairs, my gaze locked on the open door at the end of the hallway.
Callan’s hand was comforting on my shoulder.
I gave him a thankful smile, but my heart stayed strong and steady all on its own.
The fear of falling apart walking into the room at the end of the hall no longer haunted me.
Mim paused in the doorway. “We thought since Erin’s stayin’, our little Til needs a special room of her own. And she did seem to like this one best…” A freckled hand reached out to pat Matilda’s back. “What do you say, Til? Want to see your bedroom?”
Matilda’s head lifted. She blinked at the open door. “Princess room!” She wriggled to escape Callan’s arms.
“Whoa there!” he said. “Let me put you down!”
Impatient, her tiny legs thrashed, and when the toes of her jelly sandals landed on the carpet, she bolted. A squeal of excitement erupted from inside the room. “It a real princess room!”
Callan raised an eyebrow. Confused, I walked in, my hand curled tight around the edge of the doorframe.
Just in case.
The empty room had been reawakened with an explosion of pink.
The walls were painted a soft pastel to match the new mesh draped over the top of the four-poster bed.
A few simple pieces of antique furniture hauled down from the attic provided Matilda plenty of space to tuck away her clothes and books, and as I shuffled closer, my fingertips trailed the frilly edge of the pink and white gingham patchwork quilt spread over the bed. I smiled. It was one of Lila’s.
“We thought with Til’s birthday comin’ up and all…” Mim’s thin lips stretched in a nervous smile. “We hope you won’t mind.”
I glanced at the windowsill. The knot looped around my heart loosened. The porcelain unicorn was still proudly watching over the valley. How could I mind? Lila would have loved this space.
“It’s perfect,” I said. “Thank you so much for going to all this trouble for her… For us…”
Callan stood silent beside me.
Matilda, of course, was in awe of everything in the bedroom. She clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Matilda like this room.” She twisted on the spot. “Who live here?”
“You can,” Mim said. “If your mummy says it’s okay.”
Matilda’s smile was sly. “Mummy say okay.”
The cheeky little imp. “Oh, do I?” I said.
She clasped her hands under her chin. With her sweetest smile plastered on, she said, “Please!”
“You have to say ‘thank you’ to Mim and Si,” I told her.
She toddled over to clutch her arms tight around Mim’s legs first, then, with cautious eyes on Simon, she sneaked closer. His face broke out with a rare smile, and he bent down with his arms wide.
She tumbled into him. “Thank you!”
After that, she scurried to the corner of the room.
“Oh, wow!” Her dollhouse from the cottage sat nestled on a hill of fake grass, a village of shops and little houses sprawled around the bottom for her to play with.
“Oh, wow!” She wedged her ginger bear onto the bicycle and started taking him on a tour of the new roads.
Callan’s eyes were locked on that critter village.
You couldn’t buy something like that at the toy shop.
Every house, tree, and even the bubbling river made of crinkled blue cellophane had all been handmade.
Callan frowned. A twist in a slow turn, and his gaze lingered on the painted walls and then the furniture.
He faced his father. “You did this,” he said.
Simon stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “Well, I… uh…” He cleared his throat. “Mim and Bron picked out the prints for the wall and all the soft furnishings…”
Callan strode over, and Simon, his eyes widening, took a step back, probably thinking his son was about to take a swing at him. I knew Callan better than anyone. He’d never do that.
Callan’s arms hugged tight around his father. “Thanks, Dad.”
Simon’s arms wove around, a weathered hand patting Callan’s back. “It was about time.”