“Maybe I do have more brownies,” I drawled. “First, let's get you home. Then we can go from there.”
Her bright expression faded. “Do we have to go to the gym tonight?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
The happiness in her cry cut at me. “Really. You and me, tonight, babe.”
“Awesome!”
The happy peal of her voice made me smile. Except . . . what was I supposed to do with her once we got to their house? Providing dinner was one thing. Six-and-a-half-hours of entertainment was something else entirely.
Filling out an application to rent the Frolicking Moose had taken up most of my morning, not to mention updating Dad on the current condition of my ribs, and Mom on her countless questions about Benjamin coming over. Although I hadn't done much today, I already felt tired.
With a sigh, I shook that off. Now wasn't the time. Now it was Ava-time. Step one: I'd see Benjamin's house and what I had to work with. I had a feeling that the father-run home would dictate what happened next.
8
Benjamin
With a sense of great trepidation, I slowed my run and turned onto my long, dirt-road driveway.
The house I'd bought when we moved to Pineville was just over a mile from the MMA Center, but the roads turned to dirt not far off of Main Street, and a long driveway separated the house from a road that wound back into the mountains. No one wandered this way, which almost negated my need for a security system, but I kept it anyway for Ava's sake. Some of the weirdos I'd encountered during my years in the MMA limelight had no sense of boundaries. I might be out of the spotlight, but reminders that I hadn't been forgotten popped up here and there.
The run felt good at the end of a long day, allowing me to loosen up. A sense of relief came with knowing Serafina would have Ava all afternoon. She'd texted me to confirm a safe pick up, complete with a picture of Ava smiling in the backseat. I couldn't stop turning my thoughts in that direction.
Had I sprung this on Serafina too soon?
Was this the right move?
Was this better, or worse, than having Ava at the MMA Center?
Serafina would provide Ava some much-needed girl time, not to mention an earlier bedtime, as well as more of a home life. But she'd be away from me. Not that hiding under the desk really equated to quality daughter-father time. Still, I wasn't sure that would make things better.
Parenting caused the worst kind of life-questioning.
Shoving that aside, I wiped the sweat off my brow and headed through the side door of my three-car garage. The SUV was parked on the far right, and still-unpacked boxes lingered in the garage months after the moving company had put them there. I ignored them and hurried inside, eager to see how the day had gone.
Once I stepped inside the back door, I stopped to listen. Not a sound met my ears. The back door opened right into our dining area, which led to the kitchen. Beyond a few walls were the living room, bathroom, pantry, and my master bedroom on the far side. Upstairs, Ava reigned.
A lone light in the kitchen illuminated the island in the middle, which was full of food pulled from the cupboards. Beyond that came the soft glow of a lamp in the living room.
Weird.
“Serafina?” I said quietly as I advanced into the house. No sign of her in the kitchen, but the dishes from breakfast and too many dinners had been cleaned up. A rosy light came from upstairs, where Ava's door was cracked open only an inch or two. Her night light. She must be in bed already.
“Sera?”
A shuffle of noise caught my attention from the couch. Serafina looked up, her eyes unmistakably bleary, from where she sat and stared at a photo. The bright frame glowed an obnoxious neon pink whenever the lights around the edge were turned on. Inside that frame was a picture of Sadie and Ava the week before Sadie died.
My stomach dropped.
“Hey,” I said.
Serafina didn't even smile at me, which made me feel cold all over. Exhaustion was bright on her face as she set the frame down. Yep. I'd sprung this on her too fast and too soon after a traumatic incident. She motioned to the couch next to her, lips rolled together. I sat on the edge of the cushion, careful to keep some distance between us.