by Megan Green
“Sketti and meatballs!” Ellie shouts, holding up a half-eaten meatball in her tiny hand.
Kate grins at me from her position across the island from the girls. “Sorry about the mess. We started rolling the meatballs in flour to get them ready for browning and, well… a food fight sort of broke out.”
The girls both turn and beam at me. “It was so much fun, Daddy. I accidentally dropped a cup of flour and it poofed,” she says, throwing her hands up in demonstration, “all over the kitchen. And instead of getting mad at me for making a mess, Auntie Kate stuck her fingers in the powder and smudged it on my forehead.”
“So, of course, I deserved payback,” Kate says with a shrug. “Next thing I knew, we were all covered in flour and the meatballs were no closer to getting cooked.”
She walks around the island, coming closer so she can speak without the girls overhearing. “Don’t be mad at them. It was all my fault. I’ll stay and clean it up.”
I give her a sideways glance, realizing she’s misinterpreted my silent surprise as something completely different. I make a noise low in my throat before stepping around her and sidling up next to my daughters. Reaching over and dipping the tip of my finger in the sauce simmering on the island cooktop, I wipe it down the length of my nose.
“I think it’s only fitting that I wear the appropriate attire to this dinner. Now we all match.”
Gracie and Ellie squeal in delight, both of them dropping what they were doing to start painting my face with flour and sauce. By the time they’re done, I’m sure I look like some sort of weird clown who eats far too much Italian food, but the look on my girls’ faces tells me it’s worth it.
Turning to Kate, I place the back of my hand under my chin, turning my face to the side and doing my best Zoolander impression. “How do I look?”
Loud laughter fills the room as she takes in my appearance. “Oh, you’re gorgeous. Channing Tatum, eat your heart out.”
I pull a few different faces, posing in various ways that send the girls into a frenzy of giggles. By the time I’m done, Kate is back at the pot on the stove, her lips closing around the tip of a wooden spoon as she samples her creation. She smiles slightly at the taste.
“It’s ready.”
I fix the girls each a plate, settling them at the table in the dining room before heading back for my own. When I get there, Kate has started gathering dishes.
“You don’t have to do that. Come eat.”
She turns to look at me, her mouth falling open at my words.
“Oh. I wasn’t going to stay. You go enjoy dinner with your girls. I’ll just grab something on my way back to the hotel after I’m done here.”
My brow furrows. “Nonsense. You made a beautiful dinner. You’re going to come eat with us.”
“Really, Shane. I don’t want to intrude—”
“Not an intrusion when you’re invited,” I say, striding over and taking the armful of dishes from her and placing them in the sink. “This can wait until later.”
Her face flushes a little as she blows out a defeated breath. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Nope,” I respond, handing her a plate and nodding toward the colander of noodles. “Dish up.”
She scoops a tiny serving out and I pin her with a look, knowing even my three-year-old eats more than that. She throws her head back in laughter as she drops the serving spoon back into the spaghetti.
Once we both have sufficient pasta and plenty of meatballs, we head into the dining room and join the girls. If I thought they were a mess before, it’s nothing compared to the catastrophe I find at my table.
Red sauce is smeared across the lower half of both of their faces, their fingers and hands coated as they stuff their mouths with food. Looking at the way they’re attacking their dinner, you’d think it’s been weeks since their last meal and not just a few hours.
“Holy cow, slow down, girls,” I say, staring at them in shock. Gracie is normally the pickiest eater in the world, and Ellie usually decides she doesn’t like whatever her sister doesn’t like. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them eat like this.
“Daddy, it’s so good!” Gracie mumbles around a mouthful of meatball. “It’s the best sketti and meatballs I’ve ever had!”
Ellie nods emphatically as she chews. “Yummy!”
I shoot Kate a look. “That’s a pretty big endorsement. These girls don’t hand out compliments easily.”
“It’s way better than Mommy’s sketti,” Gracie states, shoveling another bite into her mouth.
Kate swallows hard, her smile tightening at Gracie’s comment. I can tell it made her uncomfortable, the comparison, yet again, to her sister. She clears her throat softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she twirls her fork absently in her noodles.
Gracie and Ellie don’t seem to notice the shift in her demeanor, so I try to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. Digging my fork into my dinner, I lift a giant bite to my lips, stuffing the entire thing into my mouth.
Surprise runs through me as soon as the flavor hits my tongue. It is really good.
I chew quickly and swallow, giving a satisfied smack of my lips once my mouth is no longer full. “You’re right, Gracie Lou Who. Best sketti I’ve ever had. Even better than Grandma Dempsey’s,” I add, throwing a wink in Kate’s direction. Hopefully the comparison to someone other than her sister will help put her at ease.
Kate smiles gratefully as Gracie dissolves into a fit of giggles.
“Ohhh, I’m telling Nana you said that! You’re not supposed to say mean things about her cookin’!”
I hold up my hands. “Hey! I never said anything mean about Nana’s cooking. I just said Auntie Kate’s is better.”
“I’m still telling,” she says, putting her messy hands on her hips and cocking her head from side to side as she speaks.
“You know what they say about snitches, right?”
Kate’s eyes shoot to mine, her brows raised in shock that I’m threatening to give my child stitches.
Gracie leaps from her chair, her giggles ringing through the air as she takes off at a run.
“Daddy, no!”
“That’s right,” I say, pushing back from the table and chasing after her. “Snitches get a swift kick in the britches.”
I catch her quickly, tapping my foot playfully against her behind before swinging her up into my arms. She grins before leaning forward, smearing her dirty face across my cheek as she gives me a giant kiss.
“Love you, Daddy,” she says, laying her head on my shoulder as we make our way back to the table.
I squeeze her tightly. “Love you, too, Gracie Lou Who.”
We finish our meal in relative peace and quiet after that. I polish off my helping quickly before going back for seconds. Kate seems pleased that we’re all enjoying the food, a small smile on her face as we eat.
Once we’re all finished, Kate excuses herself to go get started on the kitchen while I usher the girls upstairs to clean them up a little. Once their faces are wiped clean and they're both in a fresh set of clothes, they ask if they can go play outside until it’s time for baths. I nod, smiling to myself as they sprint down the stairs and out the back door.
Sauntering to the kitchen, I see that in the ten minutes it took me to handle the girls, Kate has managed to put a pretty big dent in the disaster that was my kitchen. I would’ve thought it would take hours to make the space even semi habitable again.
Maybe she’s a witch, I think to myself. One wave of her magic wand and the dishes just danced through the air on their way to the dishwasher.
What? I was into Harry Potter as a kid. Sue me.
Striding over to the fridge, I yank it open before pulling out two bottles of beer. I make my way over to where Kate stands at the sink, plunking one of them down beside her.
“You’ve done enough. Come have a beer with me out back.”
She looks around the kitchen, at the small tasks that still need
to be completed. I wave them off.
“This can wait ‘til tomorrow. I know I’m a guy, but I do know my way around a sponge and some dish soap. I can handle it.”
She looks like she wants to argue for a moment, but seems to think better of it. Grabbing the beer from the countertop, she follows me out to the back patio, plopping down into the chair beside me. We both twist off the tops of our beers, each taking a long pull before settling into our seats.
We don’t talk.
There’s no need.
We just sit and watch as the girls laugh and play, smiles on each of our faces as Gracie tries to teach Ellie some of the dance moves from her upcoming recital.
And as I sit and enjoy the evening, I’m struck with how long it’s been since we’ve had an evening like this. The girls both full of joy as they play together, Felicity and me watching peacefully from the patio.
It used to be a regular occurrence. There’d been a time when we’d wanted to spend every waking hour together as a family. But over the last few years, something had changed.
Lissy and I stopped spending our evenings together.
She’d be busy with the girls. I’d be busy with work. And then I’d get home and eventually take over. Often times once dinner was over, I wouldn’t see my wife again until she came to bed, usually hours after I’d gone to sleep. I’d roll over when I felt the weight of her body lay down beside me, press a kiss to her temple, and mumble a good night before drifting off back to sleep.
I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been intimate. Not only sexually but just with each other. We stopped enjoying each other. Stopped putting one another before our own needs.
And now here I was, only inches away from her sister, thinking how much this evening feels like old times.
Only Felicity isn’t here.
The woman sitting beside me is the one person I know Felicity wouldn’t want within a hundred yards of her daughters.
But I can’t help but think that this just feels… right.
Which makes me feel a thousand different kinds of wrong.
It’s too soon to be having these thoughts, I tell myself. Too soon to even be thinking about another woman.
But is it? Even I have to admit, it’d been at least a year—more like two—since I’d felt anything other than cordial sentiment toward my wife.
Had I still loved her when she told me she wanted a divorce?
Had I been hurt because she’d broken my heart?
Or had it simply been fear at losing what I’d always known?
I bring my beer back to my lips, knocking back the remainder in just a few swallows.
I’m not sure what the answer to any of those questions are. But I do know now is not the time to think about them.
And definitely not when it comes to my wife’s sister.
Chapter Ten
Kate
“Look!” Ellie shouts as I try to buckle her into her car seat, her arms thrusting something into my face. I pull back, sputtering as I try to clear whatever it was off the fresh coat of Chapstick I’d swiped on prior to picking her up.
I glance down at the… object in her hands. Her little face is so happy, so proud of the thing she’s holding that I can’t bring myself to tell her I have no clue what in the hell it is.
“That’s beautiful, Ells. Did you make that?”
She nods, staring down at the paper full of cotton balls and black smudges. “Ghost!”
My eyes fall back to the project in her hands. Now that she mentioned it… maybe if I squint…
Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn’t see a ghost in this thing if somebody paid me to.
“That’s a good ghost, Ellie. Very spooky!” I say as I finish buckling her in.
She shakes her head. “Not spooky. He friendly. Friendly ghost!”
“Ah,” I say, nodding knowingly. “He’s like Casper. Casper was a friendly ghost.”
She narrows her eyes, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, and I can’t help but laugh. The side-eye game is strong with this one.
It’s the first of October, and I’ve officially been back in Virginia Beach for three weeks. I’ve spent nearly every afternoon of the past two weeks with Gracie and Ellie, only missing a few here and there when other family members had wanted to pick them up.
I hadn’t even bothered asking who those other family members were. When Aara wanted the girls, Shane told me Aara was picking them up. Same went with his parents. So when he said family members, I knew exactly who he meant.
Gracie and Ellie’s other grandparents.
My mother and father.
Shane had asked if they knew I was back in town shortly after I started picking the girls up from school. I’d laughed in his face, thinking he was joking. When I quickly realized it was a serious question, I told him no. And if he wanted me to continue helping him out, it was best if it stayed that way.
Debbie and Kurt Mitchell would not be pleased to hear their youngest daughter was back in town. And I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to stand up to them.
Luckily, he’d understood. And had even managed to keep our paths from crossing.
Take Gracie’s dance recital last week. I’d told her at our first meeting that I’d be there, but as the day drew nearer, I knew there was no way I’d be able to attend. Surely they would be there.
So Shane had arranged for me to watch from backstage. I’d been able to wait with Gracie while she got ready, to be there for her when she got nervous right before taking the stage. She’d hugged me so hard right before following her friends out that I could still feel the weight of her arms around my neck. It had been the most rewarding moment of my life.
Shane had even somehow managed to trick the girls into keeping my presence a secret from “Grammy and Grampa Mitchell.” He told them it was a big surprise, and they didn’t want to ruin the surprise now, did they? Gracie had even seemed to turn it into some sort of game, and each time she got back from seeing my parents, she’d tell Shane and me all about how many times she could have mentioned me, but didn’t. Shane always rewarded her with an extra cookie after dinner.
That’s another thing. Since spaghetti night, I’ve eaten dinner with the Dempseys nearly every evening. We’ve fallen into a sort of comfortable routine. I pick up the girls, take them home and complete their afternoon activities and Gracie’s homework, then we get started on dinner. After Shane gets home, we eat, clean up, and then spend the rest of the evening in the backyard.
I’ve grown to enjoy my time at their home. In the past week, the awkwardness of being in my late sister’s house has vanished, replaced instead by a welcoming tranquility.
It’s not until I’m alone in my hotel room that the guilt starts to settle in.
What am I doing?
How can I be here, with her family, knowing it’s the last thing she would’ve wanted?
Am I a horrible person for stepping into her life like I have?
I wanted to get to know my nieces, but even I have to admit it’s gone so much further than that. I don’t just love Gracie and Ellie as nieces. I love them as if they were my very own.
How had I fallen into such a mess in such a short amount of time?
I double-check Gracie’s booster before closing the rear door of my rental car and walking around to the driver’s side. I slide in behind the wheel, and before I can even start the car, Ellie shouts.
“Go see Daddy!”
I turn and face her from my seat. “What’s that, sweetie?”
“Daddy!” she whoops again.
“Yes, we’ll see your daddy in a few hours.”
“She wants to go see Daddy now,” Gracie explains, her eyes locked on the tablet in her hands. “She probably wants to give him that ghost.”
I look down to the white blob now resting in Ellie’s lap. “I’m sure your daddy is very busy, we can’t interrupt him at work.”
Ellie’s eyes start to water when she realizes I’m telling her no. Gracie seem
s to sense the impending meltdown, because she sets down the tablet and looks at me.
“Mommy used to take us to visit Daddy at work all the time. He doesn’t mind. He likes seeing Ellie’s art projects,” she explains before going back to her game.
I scrunch up my nose, trying to decide what to do. But one more look at Ellie’s sad eyes and I already know.
Guess we’re going to Cole Security.
Twenty minutes later I follow as Gracie leads Ellie and me through the large building, straight to her father’s office. I’m not sure how a six-year-old can find her way around this place without getting lost, but at least I know she didn’t lie to me. She’s clearly been here a lot.
“Daddy!” Ellie shouts when she sees Shane sitting behind his desk.
The line that had been between his eyes as he studied the document he’d been reading instantly disappears, a wide grin spreading across his face as he lifts his head to greet us.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” he says, opening his arms as both of his daughters climb into his lap.
I lean against the doorframe of his office, smiling as Gracie and Ellie pepper his cheeks with kisses. He returns the favor, and both girls cackle as he plants a smooch on each of their faces.
Once he’s thoroughly greeted each of his daughters, he turns to me. “What brings you guys here?”
I nod toward Ellie. “She made you something at daycare today and wanted to bring it by.”
At the mention of her ghost, Ellie starts looking around, as if she just now remembered the reason why we’re here. Lucky for her, I remembered to grab it from the back seat when she took off without it.
I pull it out from behind my back and cross over to Shane’s desk. I open my mouth to tell him it’s a ghost, but before I can get a word out, he gasps, giving Ellie a tight squeeze.
“What a great ghost, Monkey. You made this just for me?”
She nods proudly.
Huh. Guess when you’re a parent, you sort of learn to identify the… creativity of your children.
Shane makes a big show of hanging it up on the wall beside his desk, much to the delight of his youngest daughter. She claps her hands together when he finishes, the wide smile on her face not faltering for even a second.