She blushed, color creeping from her neck all the way to her hairline. Then she looked at him but he had no idea what she wanted. Permission to eat more? His opinion?
Because his opinion was that she needed to cut back on her carbs. Maybe incorporate more cardio into her exercise routine. She’d always been on the chubby side, but she was noticeably heavier than when he’d last seen her.
“If you’re still hungry,” he said, “you could have more salad. Or green beans.”
She slowly put the spoon back into the serving bowl and sank back into her chair. Then she shot him an accusatory glare before averting her gaze to her plate.
What the hell had he done now? He’d given her a good compromise, hadn’t he?
He couldn’t win with his daughter.
“She’s a growing girl,” Carl said, taking matters into his own hands by plopping a small amount of potatoes onto Bree’s plate. “I’m sure she knows when she’s full and if she’s hungry for potatoes or salad.”
She sent her grandfather a grateful look. But she didn’t eat any more, only dragged the tines of her fork through the food a few times.
“May I be excused?” she asked, setting her fork down.
“Of course,” Gerry said quickly, seemingly relieved none of those potatoes had passed Bree’s lips.
Elijah leaped to his feet. “Me, too, me, too!” He bounced on his toes. The kid was nonstop energy. If his feet weren’t moving, his mouth was. “Come on, Bree, let’s go outside and play.”
“Clear your place first,” Gerry called as Elijah ran toward the door.
He kept right on going. Then again, he may not have heard her, seeing as how he was yelling like Mel Gibson’s character in Braveheart. All that was missing were the bad Scottish accent and a rousing cry of “Freedom!”
“I’ll get it,” Bree said, taking Elijah’s still-full plate along with her own as her cousin slammed the kitchen door shut behind him.
She’d no sooner disappeared into the kitchen when Mitchell let out a howl of displeasure that had Neil’s teeth aching. No wonder Fay preferred to spend so much of her time in bed.
Gerry lifted the baby from his high chair. His little body was rigid, his head back, his cheeks streaked with tears, his face turning an interesting shade of magenta. Might help if he stopped screaming long enough to take a breath.
Bree came back into the room and, as if a switch had been flipped, the wailing stopped.
Pretty neat trick, that.
“You want to come outside?” Bree asked Mitchell, as if the baby understood her. Could answer her.
Mitchell babbled and bounced up and down. Guess that was a yes.
She took the baby and he gazed at her adoringly.
An odd pang of longing settled in Neil’s chest. Bree used to look at him like that, as if he hung the stars just so she could see them shine.
He missed it.
Worse, he hadn’t even appreciated it at the time. He’d actually resented his daughter’s clinginess. Had wished she’d give him breathing space instead of always demanding so much of his time and attention. Her devotion had made him feel guilty, as if he didn’t do enough for her. As if he was as bad a father as his old man had been.
But he wasn’t, Neil assured himself as he watched Bree carry Mitchell outside. He hadn’t abandoned his child, hadn’t left her to fend for herself in foster care. He busted his ass every day so he could give her the things he’d never had.
Wasn’t that enough?
“Those boys adore Bree,” Gerry said with a smile as she carried dishes into the kitchen. Neil grabbed a couple of serving bowls and followed her. “I’m so glad Maddie let her come over tonight. The last few times we’ve called about having Breanne spend the night, Maddie has made excuses—”
“They weren’t excuses,” Carl said, carrying in the tray of leftover roast beef. “And it was one time. Bree already had plans with her friends,” he told Neil. “She’s growing up and would rather hang out with kids her own age instead of her old grandparents.”
Gerry set her hands on her hips. “Who, exactly, are you calling old?”
“Only myself,” Carl assured her. Then he kissed her cheek. “Since Neil’s here to help clean up, I’ll just go out and water the garden.”
Through the window over the sink, Neil watched Bree help Mitchell walk around the yard. What was Maddie doing, keeping his daughter away from his family? She’d always been more than fair about letting Carl