Hard Knox - Riley Hart Page 0,82
him up.
I was in the barn, working on Callum’s table—I hadn’t had much time lately to finish it—when my daughter came in.
“Hey, Charlie-girl.” I smiled, and she returned it.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Do you want to help me with this table I’m working on?”
Her eyes widened with delight. “Yes!” She wandered over. “You’re gonna put the epoxy stuff through the middle where it’s open, right? And it’ll look like a river the way the one in the living room does.”
“Exactly. Here, let’s get you some gloves.” I tugged two out of a box and slipped them on her hands. I kept a package of smalls for when she was here.
“How come you need two of these tables?”
“I don’t,” I replied, trying to gauge her reactions without making it too obvious. “We’re making this one for Callum.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Charlie.”
“You do everything for Callum. He’s always hanging out with us. You and Logan never stop talking about him. Your other friends don’t hang out with us all the time, and you don’t make them tables, and you and Logan don’t always blab about how awesome they are.”
My gut twisted uncomfortably. I fought to ignore it and test the waters some. I didn’t want to outright lie to her, to either of my kids. “That’s because Callum is a little different.”
“Whatever. I’m gonna go play with Frankie Blue.” She took the gloves off.
“Charlie.”
“I don’t want to make the table with you.”
“Then can I come play with you and Frankie?”
She stopped, looked at me, and shrugged.
While I put my things away, she lingered, waiting. Then we went to the yard and threw the ball for the dog, who never fucking got tired. She could do the same thing all day. Charlie loved it, though. We laughed and played around. Afterward, we went inside and played this board game she liked, where you had to do silly things and the other person had to figure out what your card said. This was Charlie, so she was dramatic about the whole thing, and by the time we finished, my stomach was hurting from laughing so much.
She went to watch TV while I made lunch. I was thinking about her reaction in the barn, then her laughter while playing the game. My cell was heavy in my pocket, this taunt I couldn’t get away from. I didn’t know what to do here. Did I call Callum and ask him not to come over tonight? That maybe we ease up with spending time together while I worked through whatever was going on with Charlie? But then I thought about him and knew he would be crushed. He would understand; that’s how Callum was. But I loved him. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to lose him. What if Charlie didn’t come around?
Because sometimes life liked to beat you when you were down, my phone buzzed. I tugged it out of my pocket to see a text from Cal. What’s Charlie’s favorite pizza?
“Fuck.” I dropped my head back and looked up at the ceiling, hoping to somehow find answers there. He couldn’t bribe her. That wasn’t how this worked—maybe temporarily, but that was all. But he was trying so damn hard. Charlie also needed to see she couldn’t be rewarded for her behavior. Hell, maybe I should have taken Carol up on her offer to talk to the kids together. I didn’t know what to do.
Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door. I turned the stove off and answered it.
“Hi, Amanda.” I smiled.
“Hi. How are you doing? I hope the boys were good.”
I nodded. “I’m all right. Just got a lot going on. The boys were good, though.”
“Anything I can help with?” she asked kindly. She really was a nice woman.
“Nah, but I appreciate it.” I turned and called, “Logan! Dale! Your mom is here.”
There was a clatter, and the two boys and Charlie came bounding down the stairs. She must have gone up with them.
“Dad! Does he have to go home? Can’t he stay again?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses. I would never get tired of how that felt, seeing him happy and having a friend, but Callum was supposed to come over. I already had a lot on my plate.
“I don’t know, buddy,” I replied.
“Please, Dad!” Charlie added. “They let me play with them too. Or can they come back and have dinner with us tonight? We’re having pizza!”
The tightness in my gut intensified.
“Yeah, Dad! That’d be fun. Can Dale come have