EPILOGUE
Darby
More nervous than excited—that was how Mercer had described it when it was his turn to do this. Four weeks ago, he’d reconnected with his daughter after almost a year apart, and the reunion had gone beautifully. Molly loved the house, loved her room, and most importantly, loved her dad.
It was all Mercer had talked about for days after, and I’d hung on every word. Eager. Anxious. Waiting for this moment.
And now… here we were.
I hovered on the sidewalk outside Galaxy Games & Grill, trying not to look like a man about to bolt. Cars circled the lot, hunting for parking spaces, kids shrieked by the entrance, and I—grown adult and self-proclaimed master of poise—was strangling a bouquet of roses and pale-pink hyacinth.
Flowers might not have been the most practical gift for a little girl about to play at an arcade.
She would need her hands for button mashing and steering race cars.
But really, were flowers ever an inconvenience?
They were soft, and sweet, and gentle. All the things I wanted Molly to feel, and hopefully see, in me.
Across the lot, Mercer leaned into the window of an idling sedan, speaking with his ex-wife, Rachel. I wasn’t quite ready to face her again after our run-in at the mall, so I’d hung back. Giving them space. And time. Custody and visitation seemed like a lot to sort out.
After that first visit to the house, Molly had come by a few more times, but never while I was there. I was giving her space too. Making sure she and Mercer were closer than strangers before adding an actual stranger to the mix.
But I was ready. So very ready. And I had a list of plans for makeovers and movie nights and all the s’mores our new toaster oven could cook.
At the car, Mercer straightened and nodded, signaling the end of the conversation, then he reached for the back door.
When he opened it, a sneakered foot stretched out. Then a knee. Then a girl.
Molly looked exactly as I remembered with pale skin, glossy brown hair, and her father’s eyes.
The last time I’d seen her, before Rachel had whisked her away, she’d thought I was pretty. Or at least interesting.
But what if her mind had changed? What if Rachel had said things? What if I was too much, or not enough, or…
When Mercer turned and pointed Molly toward me, my pulse skittered. She slipped her hand into his then looked across the lot.
Then her hand came up in a wave, and my heart soared with it.
“Hi!” I blurted, my voice carrying maybe five feet when she was more than twenty away. Heat rushed up my neck, and I had to swallow, reset, and wait.
The two of them crossed the asphalt, weaving between cars.
They looked like they were hurrying, or maybe that was just me being starved for the tiniest sign that she wanted this as much as I did.
A moment later, they stepped over the curb, and suddenly they were right there.
Father and daughter. Tall and small. Familiar and new.
My eyes darted between them, and my tail gave a hopeful wag.
Molly giggled when she noticed, and that bright little sound seeped into me. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear then smiled big and fearless.
“Hi, Darby.”
My breath caught. “You remember me?”
“Yeah,” she said, like it was obvious. “I like your dress.”
A laugh broke out of me—part nerves, part relief. I gave a quick twirl, letting the skirt flare out, and Molly giggled again, sweet as a song.
I looked up at Mercer and found him beaming. Pleased and relieved, like he’d been holding his breath too, and had finally let it go.
Then I realized I was strangling the bouquet. “Oh! These are for you.” I thrust them abruptly forward.
Molly’s eyes went wide. “Ooh, they’re pretty.” She accepted them with both hands and lifted them to her nose for a sniff. “Thanks.”
Her smile bloomed brighter than the roses, and for the first time all morning, my heart found a steady beat.
After a moment, she turned toward the entrance where the neon glowed even in daylight.
“Can we go play now?”
I startled, suddenly aware of how long we’d been standing there in suspense.
“Of course!” I said.
Molly released Mercer’s hand and darted toward the doors, bouquet bouncing with her. Mercer made to follow while I remained rooted in place, waiting for something.
Permission? Confirmation? To wake up?
Mercer doubled back to me, coming in close and curling his hand against my cheek.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Are you all right?”
“More than,” I said, breath coming out a little shaky.
He grinned. “Can we go play now?”
A laugh slipped out, and I nodded. “Yes, yes. Let’s go.”
I started to walk past him toward where Molly waited by the doors, but Mercer caught my hand before I got far.
I glanced back with my eyebrows raised in question.
He squeezed gently, and his thumb brushed over my knuckles as he whispered, “Happy Darby-daughter day.”