Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,100
of his life.
But it might be one of the best.
“I think that would be perfect.”
She smiled at him, no trace of worry or sadness in her eyes. “I love you, Uncle Logan.”
“I love you back.” Somehow he managed to choke out the words.
And as he carried her into the kitchen, the beagle at his heels, Logan’s heart overflowed.
After months of effort, he and Molly were finally on the road to their happy place.
One down—one to go.
“I’ll do the dishes while you put Elisa to bed.” Mariam rose as the family finished their late dinner and looked at him across the table.
Thomma didn’t need his mother’s prompt. He’d planned to take on that duty tonight, had been thinking about what he’d say to Elisa once the two of them were alone.
The words still hadn’t coalesced in his mind, though.
He’d been hoping for some guidance based on Elisa’s conversation during dinner, but despite his diligent efforts, his daughter hadn’t cooperated. Even his mother hadn’t managed to elicit more than a sentence or two.
Elisa had eaten her dinner mostly in silence, casting him frequent surreptitious glances.
Like she sensed something was different but didn’t quite know what.
He intended to clear up her confusion now.
Setting his napkin on the table, he rose. “Are you finished, my little one?”
Elisa stared at him, and in his peripheral vision he saw his mother freeze.
No wonder.
He hadn’t used that term of endearment for his daughter since the day his world had exploded in Syria.
Elisa sent his mother an uncertain look.
“Go with your father. I’ll give you a good night hug here.” She did so, offered him a nod of approval, and busied herself clearing the table.
Thomma held out his hand to Elisa.
After regarding him for a moment, she slid off her chair and slipped her fingers into his. “I have to brush my teeth.”
“You can do that while I get your pajamas out.”
She followed along beside him to the bathroom and disappeared inside.
It took him a few tries to find the drawer where his mother kept her pajamas—yet more evidence of his lack of interest in his daughter.
But perhaps he could lay the groundwork for a new start tonight.
He was waiting when she returned, her nightclothes in hand. “Want me to help you put these on?”
She shook her head. “I can do it myself.”
And she did, with quick efficiency, turning her back on him as she changed.
Like he was a stranger.
A twinge echoed in his heart, but her treatment of him was no more than he deserved. After all the months he’d pushed her aside, he was in many respects a stranger to her.
She tugged the top into position, folded up the clothes Logan had loaned them, placed them in a neat pile on the chair in the room, and climbed into bed.
Thomma tucked her in, dimmed the light, and sat on the edge of the mattress, heart hammering.
God, please help me as I try to mend the damage I’ve done.
Summoning up his courage, he took Elisa’s hand. “I’m glad you and Molly decided to come back today.”
The conclusion that the girls had changed their mind about running away was a supposition—but they had been retracing their steps when Sherlock found them.
“Why?”
So his assumption had been accurate.
That was a positive sign—unless Molly was the one who’d decided to return and had convinced his reluctant daughter to go with her.
“Because it wouldn’t be the same here without you.”
She hugged her Raggedy Ann doll tighter, watching him. “You wouldn’t miss me.”
His stomach knotted.
What else could she conclude after his behavior these past few months?
But hearing it verbalized gave her despair a stark harshness that ate at his gut.
“Yes, I would.” He stroked his fingers down her cheek and met her gaze. “I know I haven’t been a good papa for a long time, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve been very sad about all the people we love who went to heaven, and about leaving our home in Syria. Sometimes, when you’re that sad, it’s hard to think right. You forget about what you have now because you’re thinking so hard about everything that’s gone. That’s what happened to me.”
A few seconds passed.
“I miss Mama a lot too.” Her voice was a mere whisper.
Curious that she knew he’d been fixated on Raca in particular, given all the family they’d lost.
“I know you do, little one.”
“Sometimes I look at the picture Teta gave me and pretend she’s here.”