and Gerry be a part of Bree’s life before. What had changed?
“I’ll talk to Maddie,” he said. “About not letting Bree spend the night.”
He already dreaded it.
Gerry loaded plates into the dishwasher. “All of this would be so much easier if you played for a team on this coast.”
“The Knights have been good to me.” He was team captain, had made a name for himself in Seattle. And he fully expected them to renew his contract when it came up for negotiation next year. He started his career as a Knight and he’d finish his career as one.
“I’m thrilled you won the Cup with them, but you’ve been away for so long and Bree’s growing up so fast. Before you know it, she’ll be a teenager and then she’ll be off to college.” Laying the dishcloth on the sink, Gerry faced him. “You’ve already missed so much of her life. I’m afraid you’ll regret it.”
He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. If he did, it’d mean every decision he’d made, every choice as a father, had been wrong.
“My relationship with Bree is fine.” It had to be. He didn’t know how to change it. How to be any different.
“Your daughter needs you,” Gerry said, her words quiet and reproachful.
Guilt was like a knife twisting in his gut, sharp and ruthless. “I’m right here.”
“For how long? A few days? That’s not enough. She deserves more. You both do.”
“She seems fine to me.” She had Maddie and the Montesanos and his parents and sister.
She didn’t need him. She’d never needed him.
“You must have noticed how much weight she’s put on,” Gerry said in a whisper, as if afraid someone would overhear. “All she does is read and watch TV.”
“She plays soccer.”
“Only because Madelyn told her she needed to do something active this summer. I swear, if Breanne wasn’t pushed to move, she’d sit all day lost in some book. It’s not healthy for her to be so heavy and it’s not good for a young girl’s self-esteem, either.”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. He didn’t know what his daughter needed from him. “Send her to one of those fat camps?”
Gerry looked ready to hit him over the head with the pot she was scrubbing. “Of course not. I just think that with some positive attention from you, we can nip this problem in the bud.”
If something was wrong, Gerry charged in to fix it. She never put up with excuses or accepted anything less than pure victory.
The door opened and Elijah raced in, his skinny legs poking out from under a long pair of shorts, Bree following with Mitchell in her arms. Elijah opened the freezer door and pulled out a box of ice cream sandwiches, handing one to his brother and then Bree.
Bree put Mitchell on his feet then unwrapped his ice cream for him. When she tugged at the paper on hers, Gerry clapped her hands.
“Wouldn’t you rather have fresh fruit?” she asked, her tone overly cheerful. “How about some strawberries? I picked some up at the store this afternoon.”
Neil raised his eyebrows. Strawberries or ice cream? He knew which one he’d pick. But what could he say? Gerry meant well. Besides, he didn’t want to take sides, not against the woman who’d taken him in, loved him and given him a future.
Bree held her treat out to Gerry. “I’m not very hungry.”
Smiling, Gerry hugged Bree. “That’s a good girl.”
“I don’t feel well.” Bree stepped out of her grandmother’s embrace, kept her eyes on the floor. “I want to go home.”
“Oh, but you and your daddy were going to have so much fun tonight,” Gerry said with such disappointment, you’d think his kid had just admitted she wanted to be a serial killer when she grew up. “He’s been looking forward to seeing you. Here, let me see if you have a fever.”
Before the back of Gerry’s hand could make contact with Bree’s forehead, Bree jerked back. “I want to go home,” she repeated, as stubborn as her mother, as quietly insistent as him when he wanted something.
“You can stay here,” he said, his voice rough when he’d meant to sound comforting but, damn it, he was only in town for two days. He wanted to spend some time with her. “We’ll get you set up on the couch in the TV room. I’m sure Grandma Gerry has some ginger ale or saltines—”
“Of course I do,” Gerry said, already heading to the walk-in