A Broken Soul(11)

"Eve," my father spoke in a warning tone, but my mother wouldn't be deterred.

"What?" she shrugged innocently. "I'm just saying, a child her age should be sleeping in her own bed through the night. There's no reason for her to-"

I dropped my fork against the plate, causing a loud clang that startled my mother into stopping. Frustration began to course through me at the familiar, and unwanted, conversation. I knew she meant well, my mother didn't have a cruel or vindictive bone in her body, but well-meaning or not, I was getting tired of being told how to parent my own daughter. 

It was times like these that made me miss Addy even more. The constant ache that lingered in every bone grew more acute. She always knew what to do when it came to being a parent. In the three years she had with Sophia, never once did I see her doubt herself, or question her parenting methods. She was so strong, so self-assured. Christ, I missed her. Living without her was like missing a limb. And days like this one, days that seemed to call out my inadequacies as a parent, only made me angrier at life for what it had taken away from me.

"She's six years old," I snapped. "She's lost her mother and has nightmares that wake her up in the middle of the night. I really don't give a shit what a child her age should or shouldn't be doing. If it helps her to climb in bed with me, then everyone else can just fuck right the hell off."

"Quinn!" Mom shot back at the same time my father turned that warning tone on me. "Watch how you speak to your mother, son."

I propped my elbows on the table and dropped my head in my hands, giving my face a good scrub before looking back at my mother. Guilt at having taken my anger out on her rested heavy on me when I saw the disappointment in their eyes. "I'm sorry," I sighed, reaching over to place my hand on top of hers.

She turned her palm over and wrapped her fingers around mine. "It's okay. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

That was just one of the many thing I loved about my parents, one of the many things that made the decision to move Sophia back to Pembrooke so easy. They were two of the most forgiving people I'd ever met.

"So," she released my hand and went back to her coffee mug, "Soph tells us that you signed her up for ballet classes?"

I shoveled the last bit of breakfast in my mouth and chased it with a gulp of coffee as I nodded my head, all the while thinking that I'd be seeing Lilly again. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, mainly because a part of me - too large a part - was excited about the thought of it.

Just remembering back to the look on her face that day at the dance school made my chest tighten painfully. I'd acted like such an asshole, and I hated that I put that look on her face. My head was so twisted when it came to Lilly, because I knew I should have just taken that as my opportunity to keep my distance, but when we'd been called to her apartment later that night, I couldn't help but laugh when she'd rambled on about self-cleaning ovens and dishwashers. I knew I was walking a fine line, but the way she had smiled when I laughed made it impossible to act like a dick.

"Yep, last week," I answered casually, pushing the way my stomach flipped at just the thought of her to the back of my mind. "First class is this afternoon."

"That Lilly Mathewson," she continues in a conversational tone, "she's quite pretty, isn't she?"

"Ah, hell," I groaned. "Mom, come on."

"I'm just saying-" Oh, I knew damn good and well what she was just saying. Luckily, Sophia chose that moment to come barreling into the kitchen.

"Daddy!"

"Hey there, Angel!" I stood and scooped her up, pulling her tight against my chest. I might not be getting the Father of the Year award any time soon, and I may question whether my choices are right, but there was no doubt my little girl loved me, and when she wrapped her arms around my neck and squeezed so tightly, I got the sense that I was at least doing something right.



       
         
       
        

"You wash behind your ears?" I asked, as I lowered her back down to the ground.

"Yep."

"You use actual soap?" Who knew those were questions I'd be asking one day?

"Uh huh."

"You brush your teeth?" And by the dejected look that spread across her face, I knew she hadn't. "Go brush. Then it's breakfast and school.

She stomped her little foot. "But I just brushed 'em yesterday!"

"Oh my God, miracles really do happen!" I declared to the ceiling before looking back at my daughter. "Then we're going for a new record and make it two days in a row."