pie in my life.”
Thea leaned against the wall and sipped her coffee. “What time did you get home?”
“What time is it now?” Liv yawned.
“Eight.”
“Then four hours ago.”
Thea choked. “You worked until four?”
“I hate my life.”
“No, you don’t. You hate your job.”
“I worked until four in the morning on Thanksgiving. My job is my life.”
Thea walked back upstairs. The sight that greeted her in the kitchen stole her breath. The girls sat on barstools on their knees so they could reach the mixing bowls. Each awkwardly stirred batter with child-sized whisks that had been a gift from Liv. Gavin stood between them, an arm around each, hovering in case one of them tipped over or started to spill something. With murmurs of encouragement, he waited patiently as they worked the whisks through the thick batter. Every few moments, one of them would look up for approval, and Gavin gave it with gentle smiles and kisses on their heads.
Her heart shifted sideways. Even when her parents were married, her father never did things like this with her and Liv. He didn’t travel like Gavin, but he was far more absent in their lives than Gavin ever was in Ava’s and Amelia’s. By the time her father finally left for good, Thea couldn’t bring herself to care. He’d been gone all their lives in the way that mattered most.
Gavin looked up and caught her gaze. She tried to rein in her expression, but she wasn’t quick enough. Gavin’s eyebrows pulled together. She forced a smile and a breezy tone. For the girls’ sake. Not his. “Looks good, girls.”
Amelia did a little shimmy in her chair and lifted her whisk. “I’m done, Daddy.” Batter dribbled onto her hands and the counter. Gavin wiped both and asked Ava if she was ready too.
Ava shook her head. Her batter needed to be perfect. “I’ll help her finish if you want to start cooking,” Thea offered.
They worked in quiet tandem for the next ten minutes. Gavin flipped pancakes as Thea got out the syrup, whipped cream, and chocolate chips. She cleaned off the counter and set plates in front of the girls’ chairs. After getting the girls settled with their food, Gavin fixed a plate for Thea and himself. They ate standing up on opposite sides of the island, each hovering in case they needed to save either of the girls from getting syrup in their hair. Neither spoke as they ate, except to the kids.
Gavin swallowed a last huge bite of pancakes and leaned back against the other counter. “So, I was thinking.”
Thea looked up. Gavin bit his lip, as if afraid to finish his thought.
“Since the girls are feeling better, I was thinking of taking them downtown to do a little Christmas shopping this afternoon. You could kick back here, maybe dig out your paints or just relax?”
The girls both perked up at the word Christmas. Or maybe shopping. Both were powerful words to them.
“What do you think?”
“Can we, Mommy?” Amelia asked, smearing syrup across her cheek.
Thea could hardly say no. Her entire game plan revolved around keeping her distance from him, and what better way than for him to leave the house? But the Christmas festival was the kind of thing they did together as a family before. It was hypocritical of her to be hurt that she wasn’t included in his plans. This is what it would be like from now on. She needed to get used to it as much as the girls.
“Sure, sounds great,” she finally answered. “I’ll get some more work done on the wall while you’re gone.”
She poured another cup of coffee and carried it upstairs to change. A few minutes later, Gavin walked in. He had her cell phone. “Dan just tried to call you.”
Her father. Thea set the phone on the dresser. It was way too early to even think about him.
Gavin hovered in the doorway. “Wh-what do you think he wants?”
“I haven’t RSVP’d for the wedding yet.”
“Are you . . . are you OK about him getting married? I mean, are you upset?” he asked.
Thea knitted her brow. Where was this coming from? “I don’t really think about it,” she admitted.
“Do you want me to deal with him?”
“Deal with him?”
“If you don’t want to talk to him, I can answer the next time he calls. Or I can just call him myself and tell him to back off. Do you want me to?”
Her heart shifted in her chest with an unidentifiable emotion. She tried to picture