Sweet as Candy - Karla Doyle Page 0,37
but she was still very much a five-year-old. She was certainly no stranger to the words who, what, when, where, and why. Yet she hadn’t uttered any of those words with regard to Jake. Aside from a generic, “Okay,” Macy hadn’t said anything about him.
Candace removed the plates, napkins, and cutlery from the table and placed them on the kitchen counter. A handful of steps took her to the adjoining living room, where Macy sat cross-legged on the floor, hunched over her coloring book.
“Baby girl,” she said, drawing Macy’s attention. “My friend Jake will be here soon. Would you set the table while I finish getting the food ready?”
“Okay.” That word again.
The urge to ask if anything was wrong nearly escaped Candace’s mouth as she watched Macy set the table. Macy was a joyful, outgoing child, and the little girl carrying plates and cutlery from the counter to the table was silent to the point of sullen. Macy had always been talkative and open with her feelings. Something was bothering her. Whatever it was, it couldn’t continue.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Candace placed her palm across Macy’s forehead. “Are you feeling sick?”
Macy shook her head. “No. May I go back to the living room now?”
“Sure.” She leaned against the wall, watching her daughter return to her cross-legged position in the living room.
Macy selected a blue crayon and resumed coloring her butterfly picture. No sign of frustration, anger, or distress. Just intent focus on the task at hand.
Maybe Candace was looking for problems where none existed. Macy’s recent tendency toward silence coinciding with Jake’s appearance in her life could be a fluke.
She had to know for certain. Even if the answer could potentially change the happiness Jake’s presence had brought to her life.
She moved to the living room, curling her legs beneath her on the floor as she sat beside her daughter. “If you don’t want my friend Jake to come over for a visit, he won’t come over. Simple as that. You can tell me, and that’ll be the end of it.”
“Jake can come visit. He’s nice.”
Relief washed over Candace. “I think so too.” Something was still up, though. The air was thick with the silence created by unspoken thoughts. “Is something else bothering you?”
Macy shook her head without looking up. Then nodded. “Why doesn’t my daddy come to visit?”
Candace’s stomach clenched. The day she’d dreaded for years had arrived. She’d spent countless hours preparing answers for every possible question. Now that the moment to draw on those imagined scenarios had arrived, nothing wise, insightful, or kind came to mind. “Your dad lives far away.”
“Grammy and Papa live far away and they come see us sometimes.”
Not in the beginning and still not often, but Candace would never share those details. Plus, the point couldn’t be disputed. Macy’s maternal grandparents did live far away—much farther than her deadbeat dad—and they did come visit. Twice a year, bearing bags full of gifts for their only grandchild, along with a heaping pile of judgment for their only child.
“I wish I had a good answer for you.” She stroked Macy’s soft hair while searching for truthful words that wouldn’t break her daughter’s heart. “Your dad went away to finish school. He wasn’t ready to be a grownup and a parent.”
“What about now? Is he ready now?”
The questions squeezed at Candace’s heart. “I don’t know, baby girl. I haven’t talked to him in a long time.”
“Why not?”
Because Ken was a selfish douchebag who’d been more than happy to sign away his parental rights five years ago, that’s why. He’d thanked her for relieving him of any and all parental obligations, declined her offer to be kept in the loop about Macy’s life. She hadn’t contacted him since because he didn’t deserve an opportunity to change his mind.
She pushed the anger down, swallowed the ball of emotions lodged in her throat. “I’m not sure I have his phone number anymore. But I will try to get in touch with him, if that’s what you want.”
Macy’s rosebud lips turned down instead of up, cloudy emotion rolling through her expressive eyes. Her gaze shifted toward the front hall as the doorbell chimed. “Jake’s here.”
“Jake can wait. Or I can tell him to go home for now, if you want to talk some more.”
Macy shook her head. “I don’t want to talk anymore. Jake can come in.”
“Okay.” She rose, kissing Macy’s head on the way up. “I love you, baby girl. More than anything or anybody in the world. You will