The Dad Next Door. C.J. Carmichael
was Sam and Tory. Sam was very protective. She seemed to know what her sister wanted better than Tory knew herself.”
“Is that why Tory’s so hesitant about decisions? I thought she was just shy.”
“She wasn’t acting shy tonight.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his daughter so enthusiastic, so happy, so…alive.
“That’s true.”
“I’m sorry we took over your evening.”
“It’s been great. Honestly. Tory’s a real sweetie.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her this happy,” Gavin admitted. “Even before Sam’s accident, she was the quiet one. Maybe things would have been different if she’d had her mother.”
He wondered if Marianne had any idea of the gaping hole she’d left behind. If she could see how much Tory was hurting now, surely she’d want to be here.
“Was their mother in the accident, too?”
“No. She left long ago.”
“Left?”
“Yeah.” He was surprised to discover that he actually wanted to tell her more, but Tory stirred just then. She stretched out her arms and yawned. “Is the movie over, Daddy?”
The DVD had continued to play, though Gavin and Allison hadn’t paid much attention to it. Gavin hit the stop button on the remote control. “It’s over for tonight. Come on, sweetheart. We need to get you to bed.”
He sat up and scooped his daughter into his arms. She snuggled her face against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. She smelled like popcorn and chocolate-chip cookies.
He noticed Allison watching them, a tentative smile on her face.
“Hand me your keys,” she said. “I’ll get the front door for you.” A plate of cookies she’d covered with plastic wrap was waiting in the kitchen and she took that, too, leaving her own house unlocked as she accompanied them across the lawn.
The night was still and quiet, and the cool air, hinting at autumn, was a surprise. Gavin held Tory closer to his chest and walked briskly. Allison unlocked their front door, pushing it wide open, then stepping inside after they’d paused to turn on the lights.
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” He carried Tory up the stairs to her room, where he settled her into bed.
“Daddy…” she began, but she fell asleep before she could finish whatever it was she was going to say.
He stared at her for a few seconds, his heart filled with love for the fragile creature in his care. A parent’s first job was to keep his children safe, and he’d failed with Sam.
He had to do better for Tory.
ALLISON WASN’T SURE if Gavin expected her to go or stay. She closed the door and decided to give him a few minutes, anyway. Glancing around, she was surprised to see so many boxes stacked against the walls.
They’d been here for over a week. Why was it taking so long to get settled?
Maybe the task was overwhelming. Despite all the previous owners, not much had changed since the McLaughlins had lived here. The house desperately needed paint and new flooring. Allison hoped Gavin was serious about letting her help. Whether she was paid or not, it didn’t matter to her. She’d love to get her hands on this place.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Gavin was back. He noticed her scrutiny and shrugged apologetically. “It’s a mess, I know. I just can’t seem to motivate myself to deal with it.”
“Moving is always tough. It must be even harder when you have a young child.” And if you were depressed over the loss of another child.
She wanted to go back to what they’d been talking about earlier. The twins’ mother. Why had she left? Was she in touch, at all?
“That’s a good excuse. But I could be making better use of my time.”
“Well, if you were serious about letting me help you, I’d be glad to do it. I’ve always loved this house. I had a…” She paused. “A friend who used to live here.”
“Really? Who was your friend?” It was too dark to see Gavin’s face clearly. But he definitely sounded interested.
“Her name was Marianne McLaughlin.”
Gavin went still and silent. Had she said something wrong?
“You and Marianne McLaughlin were friends?” he finally asked, slowly, as if it were some unbelievable thing.
“Sometimes it felt more like enemies, but yes. We were in the same grade. Anyway, the point is, I know this house. Marianne had the run of the place when she was growing up, and we spent a lot of time here.”
She laughed, but Gavin didn’t join in.
“I’d been meaning to ask if you happened to know her.”
“Why—do you know Marianne, too?” Her good mood evaporated. Suddenly she felt a chill, as if a ghost had just brushed past her. She had a flashback to her childhood, to the feeling she’d get whenever Marianne took something of hers. It had happened a lot.
“Yeah. I knew Marianne, all right.” Gavin went to the kitchen and opened the high cupboard above the sink. Pulling out a bottle of scotch, he poured himself a glass, then looked at her inquiringly.
She shook her head no.
He downed his drink in one swallow, then looked at her again. “Marianne is the mother of my twins.”
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