5

 

“I’m home.” Cole tossed his suit jacket over the arm of the couch as he stepped into the living room. Cartoons raced across the TV screen. Kimmy’s favorite doll lay on the floor along with a flurry of scattered Legos and a partially completed puzzle. He navigated a path through the toys. “Where’s my little princess?”

“Daddy!” Kimmy scrambled through the doorway to greet him. “Oh, I missed you.”

“And I missed you, too.” Cole knelt to catch her as she rushed to his arms. Her cotton nightgown billowed and her hair, damp from a bath, was a shock of copper curls that proved impossible to tame. The sweet scent of strawberry shampoo filled his nose. “What have you been eating?”

“Aunt Patty let me help her make pudding.” Kimmy wiped a dab of congealed chocolate from her mouth with the back of her hand. “We saved some for you.”

“Sounds yummy. Thanks.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “How was your day?”

“Good, Daddy. How was yours? Did you get all the bad guys?”

“Almost. Tomorrow I’ll get the rest.” He tapped her nose. “Where is Aunt Patty?”

“Cleaning the kitchen. I was helpin’ her wash the dishes.”

As if on cue, Patty came to the doorway. Her chestnut hair was pulled back with a silver butterfly clip and her T-shirt, stretched taut over the growing mound of her belly, was splattered with water. She wiped her hands on the thighs of her jeans. “Hi, there.”

“Hi yourself. Heard you’ve been cooking and washing dishes.” He grimaced. “Why aren’t you resting like the doctor ordered?”

She ignored his question with a shrug and tossed one of her own. “How was dinner?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” She propped a hand on her hip and slouched against the door frame, her caramel eyes fixed on him. “Spill some details.”

“What’s there to share?” He knelt to gather Legos into a bin. “Rebecca and I stopped by the deli and grabbed a quick sandwich.”

They’d spent half an hour reminiscing and Cole recalled, within the first five minutes, why he’d fallen so hard for her. She’d relinquished her phone number and address and agreed to dinner on Saturday. Cole was already looking forward to it.

“Sounds promising, especially from a guy who said he wasn’t ready to date.”

“It wasn’t a date.” Cole nudged the bin aside and finished putting the puzzle together. When he was done, a crowd of animals stared back at him.

“From the look on your face, I’d say different.”

“Your assumption would be wrong.” Yet his insides battled with that statement. Maybe his meal tonight with Becca wasn’t technically a date, but he’d be just fine if their next one headed in that direction.

“If you say so.” Patty came over to smooth Kimmy’s hair. She eased into the recliner and reached for the remote. The TV screen went dark, the room blissfully quiet. “How’d the appointment go?”

“What ‘pointment?” Kimmy’s sweet voice drew Cole back. She gathered her doll and waited beside him. “Where’ve you been, Daddy?”

“I went to register you for preschool.” He kissed her chocolate-smudged cheek once more. “You’re all set to start tomorrow. What do you think about that?”

She placed the doll on top of the Legos in the bin and covered it with a small cotton blanket. “The place we drove by yesterday…with the playground?”

“That’s right.” He took her by the hand and led her to the couch, where a stack of picture books waited to be read. “You’re going to like it there.”

“Were there toys inside?”

“Yes.”

“And books?”

“Of course.”

“Is the teacher nice?”

“I didn’t actually meet your teacher, but I met the director, and she’s very nice.” The thought of Becca warmed him once again. He reached into his pocket, felt the paper that held her cell number.

“Do you think she’ll like me?”

“Uh huh.”

Kimmy’s gaze shifted toward the doorway. “I’m going to miss Aunt Patty. She makes the most yummiest mac and cheese.”

“You’ll still see her, sweetie.” Cole patted his daughter’s head. Curls clung to the remnants of chocolate along her cheek and cascaded across her forehead, playing peek-a-boo with her eyes. He’d have to work harder to master the art of hair clips and braids. “And soon you’ll have two baby cousins to play with, as well.”

“Yeah.” Kimmy brightened. “Aunt Patty helped me practice writing all my letters, and she said there’ll be lots of kids to play with at my new school.”

“Sure there will be.” It was Patty’s nature to ease Kimmy’s mind—and his, as well. Cole captured his sister’s gaze and nodded his thanks.

“I also ordered your birthday cake.” Cole plopped onto the couch, loosening the top two buttons of his dress shirt. “It’s almost your special day, remember?”

“That’s silly, Daddy.” Kimmy giggled as she climbed into his lap. “‘Course I remember.”

“Have you been thinking of a wish?”

“You mean for my cake, when I blow out the candles?”

“Yes, for that.”

Kimmy nodded. “Uh huh.”

“And…”

“It’s a secret, Daddy.”

Buttercup skulked over and leapt onto the couch. He stretched and nuzzled his head against Kimmy’s chest.

“You know we’re not supposed to keep secrets, right?” Cole buried his fingers in the cat’s fur and scratched while Kimmy selected a picture book.

“I know, but this is diff’rent.”

“How so?”

“It’s a wish for you, Daddy.”

“For me?”

“Sure. I’m gonna give my wish to you.”

“Wow.” Cole struggled to keep the emotion from his voice. “That’s awfully special.”

“You’re special, too, Daddy.”

He took the book from her and turned to the first page as he added, “So, we’re going to celebrate your birthday like a king and his princess, right?”

“Right, Daddy. I’m your little princess.”

“Yes, you are.”

 

****

 

Cole padded to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. There was no point trying to sleep, so he might as well fill out Kimmy’s registration paperwork for Precious Miracles.

He’d procrastinated once again, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the effect of exhaustion that seemed to bite him like a venomous snake. Or, maybe it was Rebecca Gillespie, with her burnished hair and captivating eyes, who had something to do with his distraction.

Who was he kidding? Becca had everything to do with his distraction. Seeing her again was like a jumpstart to his system. He hadn’t realized how dormant he’d become—just how much autopilot had taken over the past year—until her laughter washed over him. Cole waited for the coffeemaker to stop sputtering and then filled a mug to the brim before slipping into a chair at the table. Moonlight spilled through French doors that led to an expansive deck, casting a glow over the sleepy kitchen.

His thoughts drifted back to Rebecca once again, and he remembered the flash of shock that crossed her eyes when he mentioned that Kimmy was adopted. She looked like she wanted to ask him more, but she held her tongue. What did it feel like, he wondered, to be on the flip side of the adoption process, especially in her heartbreaking circumstances?

Cole vividly recalled the day he and Leah had brought Kimmy home. He’d been filled with a whirlwind of emotions difficult to describe—joy, apprehension, and exhaustion borne of a string of sleepless nights leading up to the event. It took weeks for the knot in his belly to subside, for him to believe that no one would return to snatch Kimmy away. She’d become a member of his family—for good.

As for the woman who’d placed Kimmy into adoption—Cole often wondered what had become of her. Did she ever think of the child she’d given away? Did she harbor any regrets?

He opened the file Rebecca had given him and began to tackle the forms. On the medical release, he found a space for special notes. He considered a moment, then carefully jotted: Kimmy’s blood type is O negative.

O negative was often difficult to procure in emergencies. Cole knew this because Kimmy had suffered a bout of nosebleeds the year before, one of them severe enough to send her to the emergency room. Her pediatrician had suggested Cole inquire if any of his friends or relatives shared Kimmy’s blood type.

Cole had tried to locate one—and failed. The scare made him wish he knew more about Kimmy’s mother.