Chapter 2

“If I hear about you showing other boys anything, little lady, there’s going to be hell to pay,” he threatens.

Evie giggles harder. “You said the H word!”

Gavin struggles to keep a straight face. God, to be that young and innocent again, when hellwas considered too bad to say out loud! “I’m serious. Now let’s get you dressed.”

He eyes the lukewarm water in the tub, the toothpaste smeared everywhere, the wet and wrinkled clothing she managed to half pull on. His mind wants to shut down—it’s almost too much trouble to think through everything he needs to do to get her ready to leave the house. How does Marian manage it on a daily basis? He can barely get through a weekend visitation without feeling overwhelmed

I’m the adult here,he reminds himself. If I don’t take charge, no one will.

Grabbing the dress around Evie’s neck, he eases it up over her head and tosses it in the corner. Then he has her stand up so he can shuck off the tights. She plops onto the edge of the tub and lifts her leg as he pulls the tights off, and they join the dress in the corner. Then he unstoppers the tub, lets the water drain away, and turns on the faucet full-blast. “Ever taken a shower?” he asks his daughter.

She shrieks again, this time with delight. “No! Mommy says I’m too little.”

“You’re just the right age.” Gavin pulls up the shower release, then tugs the curtain across the tub. “Go on, honey. Get in.”

Evie shakes her head. Her eyes are huge, her little pot-belly thrust forward over her legs almost belligerently. “I’ll fall down the hole!”

“What hole?” Gavin doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Come on, kid. It’ll take five minutes to clean you up this way. Get in.”

“No! The hole!” She starts crying again.

Then Gavin gets it. She means the drain. With an exasperated sigh, he leans into the shower and stops up the drain, getting thoroughly soaked in the process. The tub starts to fill immediately. Wiping his damp hair back from his face, he tries again. “There, it’s plugged up. You won’t fall in. Now come on, please? For me?”

Evie gives him a distrustful glance, then peers around the curtain into the tub. Satisfied, she hops in and starts laughing as she splashes in the spray. “It’s raining!”

Gavin catches sight of his reflection in the mirror above the sink. His blond hair is curling around his ears, the ends dripping water onto his shoulders, discoloring the T-shirt he wore to bed. His hazel eyes are almost golden in the overhead light, but the circles under them look like fresh bruises. He hopes Evie doesn’t use up all the hot water. He’s going to need a long, soothing shower to make it through the rest of this day.

He rubs a hand over the stubble on his chin and sighs. Then he pulls out his iPhone to send an e-mail to Lacey—or Stacey, or Cayce—postponing their meeting. It’s already fifteen after nine Saturday morning and the weekend stretches out in front of him like an obstacle course. He’s had Evie with him less than twelve hours, and already he needs a break.

How the hell does Marian doit? he wonders. 2

Evie is seven going on seventeen. She has her mother’s pretty face and her father’s soulful eyes, and even in a child so young, the combination spells danger. Gavin’s seen the way she struts around when she knows she looks good, and complements only increase her already high self-esteem. On the one hand, it’s nice she has such a high opinion of herself at such a young age. On the other hand, though, he knows she’s going to be a firecracker when she hits high school. She’ll grow into one of those painfully pretty popular girls who rule over their classmates and can do no wrong. Cheerleading, parties, dates…he’s already dreading it.

It seems like just the other day she was a small baby, so frail and tiny in his arms. He remembers clearly the very first time he held her, there in the delivery room, even before Marian did. So perfect in every minute detail. So beautiful already, it nearly broke his heart. When he looks at her now, growing like a dandelion, fast and wild, his arms ache to hold her again like he did when she was born. Tightly swaddled in a receiving blanket, the world held at bay by his embrace. Nothing could touch her if he didn’t want it to. Nothing could harm her if he didn’t let it.

Gavin remembers being her age once, a precocious little boy himself, for whom the days stretched out ahead into eternity. Now he’s thirty-five and every moment seems fleeting, as if each time he blinks, time flickers by before he can open his eyes again. Before he knows it, she’s going to be ten, then fourteen, then driving. Then eighteen, then off to college, then married, then having children of her own. She’ll be on the outskirts of his life before he knows it, no longer the center of his world but orbiting just out of reach. If he’s lucky, she’ll call once a month to check in, maybe visit on the holidays. He’ll miss these moments together, so carefree and innocent, he knows he will, so he tries to remind himself to savor every chance they have together. He wants to remember every word she says, every expression that crosses her face, every little thing that goes into forming the woman she’ll one day become.