Clarisse’s belly flipped again and she whispered, “Awesome.”

“You’re up, babe.”

Ohmigod! Fin Holliday called her “babe”!

“What?” she breathed.

“She gets here, you gotta get your Dad over here. I’ll make the coast clear, get Mom and Kirb out for a while. I’ll text you. She says she needs a week or so to sort shit out down in Texas. But at lunch tomorrow, we’ll plan.”

That was practically a date!

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Cool. Later Rees.”

“Later, Fin.”

She hit the button to disconnect.

Then she put her phone back on the nightstand.

Then she stared at its shadow through the dark and she did this a long, long time.

Finally, feeling better about just about everything, Clarisse Haines fell asleep smiling.

Chapter Seven

All It Ever Felt Was Right

Mike turned his head and watched his daughter wander up the backyard, Layla bouncing at her side.

For the last ten minutes she’d been out there at the back gate, the gate open, standing in it, her hand lifted, cell to her ear.

Something new was going on with Clarisse. Instead of seeming lost, being lazy and lying, she seemed focused, he just didn’t know on what, full of energy and secretive.

He could not say he didn’t like this change, except the last. She got her homework done before he asked her. Her grades which had started to take a turn for the worse, except for English which never dropped, were improving. She texted him nearly every night to ask when he was due home. Then, when he got home, she was in the kitchen cooking. Before he went to bed at night, the dishes were done and even the counters were wiped clean. For over two weeks, he hadn’t done a single piece of laundry and all his clothes were clean, folded and put away. Both his kids got their chores done without him having to get on them. No had even asked for money because Reesee had written out a grocery list of what they needed and he’d volunteered to go. Three times.

All this and she hadn’t asked him for her allowance even though she knew she wasn’t going to get it. She had five weeks left on her backlog. She also hadn’t been to the mall with her girls. Not once.

And she was on the phone, a lot. And texting, a lot. This was not abnormal. She did this with her girl posse. But what was abnormal was the little smile he did not like that played at her mouth during some of the texting. He also did not like the light that hit her eyes both after her phone binged with texts she’d just read or after she wandered down from upstairs and he knew she’d had some call.

He let her alone about this. First because she was a teenage girl and as much as he didn’t like it, he knew it eventually would happen. And he knew exactly what was happening from that smile and the light in her eyes that was far from difficult to read. Second because he did not want to know.

But the rest was a mystery.

He figured, since her birthday was imminent, she was buttering him up. He asked his kids for wish lists every year for birthdays and Christmas and hers this year for her birthday was long.

Her roping No into helping out, though, was overkill.

Maybe she’d sorted herself out.

Or maybe she had a boy who was interested in her and she was riding that high and spreading the joy.

He figured with those little smiles and the light in her eyes, it was both. And thinking his pretty daughter who was turning fifteen had a guy on her hook made him wish something he never thought he’d f**king wish. And that was that Reesee was back at lost, lazy and lying.

Christ.

She opened the door and came in, Layla bounding in with her.

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted, eyes lit, mouth smiling, shrugging off her jacket.

“There a reason you’re standin’ outside in the cold, dark February night starin’ at the Holliday Farm?”

Her jacket dangling from her fingers, her eyes lit again but not in the way that made him lament for the first time in his life he didn’t have two sons because he figured this next phase might just kill him.

Studying her closely, Mike still didn’t get this new light.

Then he couldn’t think of it at all when she replied chirpily, “Yeah. Rumor has it Fin and Kirby’s Aunt Dusty is movin’ to town and she has horses. I was hoping to see them.”

“Pardon?” he asked softly.

She walked to the couch, her eyes never leaving his and tossed her jacket on the back.

“Finley Holliday’s Aunt Dusty is movin’ in. His Mom isn’t doin’ too good and they’ll be plantin’ soon. So she’s moved back from Texas or, uh…wherever and she’s gonna be around a while to help out.”

Mike stared at his daughter.

Fuck. Shit.

Fuck.

“Anyway,” she went on and with effort he focused on her, “I didn’t see the horses. I did see Fin and Kirb leavin’ with their Mom. Didn’t catch a glimpse at their aunt though. Maybe that drive from wherever with her horses wore her out or something.”

Dusty was home.

Dusty was home and was going to be home a while.

Dusty was f**king next door, home for a while and right then home alone.

Mike knifed off the couch muttering, “I gotta go somewhere. I won’t be back for a while.”

He was walking down the hall when Reesee called, “Okay Dad, see you later.”

Mike lifted a hand and flicked out two fingers but didn’t look back.

He just grabbed his jacket, his keys and walked out the door.

*

Grinning, Clarisse bent her neck, lifted the phone in both hands and her thumbs flew over the keyboard.

Worked like a charm. He’s already gone, she typed then hit send.

Five seconds later, her phone binged and at the top of the text it said, “Fin”.

The text said, Awesome.

Her grin got bigger and she skipped down the hall and jogged up the stairs to her room, Layla following.

*

“You forget something?” I called when the front door opened.

Fin, Kirb and Rhonda just left. A movie. Rhonda was against it and even I wasn’t so sure since it was a romantic comedy. But for some reason Fin was adamant they “get out of the house, let Aunt Dusty relax and settle”.

Fin was a good kid, thoughtful, attentive, he noticed things but even for Fin, that was weird.

And I was not sure Rhonda needed to go to a romantic comedy. A reminder of romance I did not think would be a good thing. It had been over a month and my sister-in-law was still skating the edge of grief gone bad. Her eyes were sunken in her head. She’d lost weight. And she was even more flighty than normal to the point she was nearly hazy.