It had wounded Derek’s heart when Lene had announced she was having Myles’ baby, but we’d pull through that tough time. I’d taken him to France. We’d made peace.
“That’s a pretty flower,” I said, finally walking in.
Violet-Rose stared at me with her father’s eyes. Impossible to read. “It’s a frog,” she corrected me.
“Oh, my bad.” I leaned in and kissed Derek’s hair. “Hi.”
“Hello.” He set Violet-Rose down. “It’s really late,” he told her. “Go get your dad. Show him what you painted, okay?”
She wore a pink silk kimono and a black velvet rose in her orange hair. Myles’s gifts from Japan, I guessed. She stared at the paintbrush in her chubby fingers and then dropped it on the floor, taking off.
“Wait, will she be all right?” I checked the hall.
“Oh, yeah, she knows her way around here and she never falls or breaks anything.”
I sighed, the exhaustion and hunger slowly settling in. “Lene was like that as a kid. She moved like a cat.”