Page 97 of Between the Lines

“House looks great. You did a nice thing,” Eddie adds.

Then why doesn’t it feel like it?

We hang up and I slide my phone back into my pocket.

“What’s up, what did he say?” Fia asks, eyes bright as she waits for my answer.

“Everything is good, right on schedule.”

Fia exhales. “Oh good, I can’t wait to see it.” She smiles and I have to look away.

I can’t return the smile as my chest tightens. By next weekend, Fia will be gone. The guesthouse will be empty, again.

I thought I had her for two more weeks, all to myself.

I’ll tell her the project is ahead of schedule and she can move out earlier than planned, but I’ll wait until the weekend is almost over.

On Sunday night, I’ll let her know the good news . . . She can go home soon.

38

Caden

My kitchen has never been messier. A dozen little bowls—ones I bought and never used until tonight—with remnants of tonight’s late dinner are strewn across the long island. The baby monitor’s plugged in in the corner.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more relaxed.

“You’ve ruined frozen pizza for me forever.” Fia throws herself back onto my sofa dramatically.

It makes me laugh. “I’m sorry?” I plop down next to her.

She lolls her face towards me, half buried in the throw pillows, and smiles lazily.

We made homemade pizza tonight. I made dough from scratch while she fed, bathed, and put Daisy to sleep. It was tedious work, but there was only one acceptable way to give her a pizza night—I had to go all out.

Matt would call me a human bulldozer.

When my hands were kneading sticky dough, I would’ve called myself insane.

Fia has yet to complain about my ways, however.

Music plays through the speakers, and my house actually feels cozy—something I never would’ve said until this girl came into my life.

“Damn, it’s windy out there.” I sit up, peering out the window into the yard. The cushions on the lounge chairs are sliding off from windy gusts, and the umbrella teeters at an angle.

“Shit, I need to put that down.” I bounce up, tossing my phone on the coffee table next to Fia’s. She follows me, slipping on sandals by the door.

We step into the dark yard together as a storm brews above. The air is thick with impending rain, and the tops of the tall pines sway along with the string lights over the patio.

“This came out of nowhere.” I jog towards the umbrella, cranking it down as the wind picks up, and glance up at the night sky, dark as the inky ocean.

Fia grabs the cushions from the lounge chairs, rushing to stuff them into the outdoor storage container.

Her long red hair blows across her face, and she tries to move it, but thunder claps in the sky, making Fia jump. Then she laughs, and it’s the sound of pure joy.

A sound that makes me stop what I’m doing.

Fia kicks off her sandals as the sky opens, the first raindrop falling, hitting my skin without a sound. She runs into the grass, arms open wide, head back, twirling in a shirt she borrowed from me and cotton sleep shorts.