Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“But Stormy?”
I look at the front door and wonder if she’s on the other side, listening in. I know I would be, but knowing my daughter, she’s probably sulking in her room or plotting my demise.
“Mama, Stormy’s career is her own just as my personal life is mine.”
She shakes her head. “She doesn’t see it like that.”
“Ma. . .” but my plea falls on deaf ears as she walks back into the house. Thankfully she doesn’t slam the door in my face, but walking into the house feels anything but welcoming.
“Daddy!” Willow screeches as soon as I step into the living room. She launches herself into my arms and hugs me tightly. I’ve gone months without seeing her when I was on tour, but knowing that she’s coming back home to live with me has made me miss her even more than before. “I’m all packed.”
“That’s good. We’re leaving tonight.”
“I don’t want to go.” Stormy’s voice breaks the moment between Willow and me. I set her down and kiss her forehead.
“We’ve been through this, Stormy.”
“Well, that was before you decided to suck face with Zara. I mean, really, Daddy?” She turns down the hall and slams her bedroom door. I sigh and glance down at Willow who has a beaming smile on her face.
“Why are you smiling?”
She shrugs. “I think Zara is pretty.”
“She is,” I say, agreeing instantly. I motion for Willow to sit on the couch so I can talk to her before I go see if I can fix things with Stormy. “How would you feel if Zara and I were more than friends?”
“Does she make you happy?”
I can’t help but smile. “She does. I have never met someone like her, and she really wants to get to know you and your sister.” I push a tendril of her blonde hair behind her ear. More and more she’s trying to be like Stormy, growing up faster than she needs to be. It’s another reason I want both of them back in Nashville, so I can make sure they’re still acting their age and not this preconceived notion that fifteen is the new twenty-five. With Willow only being ten, I want her to experience everything a child should and then some.
“Will Zara be at the house when we get there?”
“Yeah,” I say with a small sigh. “Is that going to be okay?”
Willow nods eagerly. Her enthusiasm is great, but it makes me wonder how much time Iris spent with her or if she was left with a babysitter most of the time. I have to push those thoughts away though because there isn’t anything I can do about it if my suspicions are correct. It boils down to the fact that I made a mistake as their father when I let the girls come live with Iris in the first place.
“I’m going to go talk to your sister. Why don’t you double-check your luggage and make sure you have everything you need. It’ll take the movers a bit of time to get everything sent to us.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she says, following me down the hall. I knock lightly on Stormy’s door and wait for her to answer. As much as I want to barge in and be the alpha dad, I can’t do that to her. I will never experience what she’s going through. I have both my parents, who are still married and happily in love. She’s been through a divorce, living thousands of miles away from one parent, and now her mother has died. My gut is screaming for me to get her into therapy.
She opens the door with a huff and a teenage attitude. The scowl on her face must be painful. There is so much strain on her forehead to keep up the façade she has going on right now. I smile, trying to ease the tension that is building between us. The last thing I want is for this mole hole to turn into a mountain.
“May I come in?”
“You own the house, don’t you?”
Her snide remark has me biting the inside of my cheek. I could lash out, yell at her for being a brat, but that won’t solve anything. The inside of Stormy’s room is bare, with boxes piling along the walls. Some are marked for storage, while others are marked donation or bedroom. It warms me to know that she’s considering giving away some of her stuff.
“What do you want to do with your mother’s belongings?” I ask, studying the now empty corner that used to be dedicated to me. Seeing her bare wall where my poster used to hang hits me square in the chest. I won’t have a shrine in either of my daughters' bedrooms anymore because they’ll be home with me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss seeing them.
“I thought that maybe we could come back once everyone is settled and the three of us could go through it.”