She stood in front of the sink as she washed her cup and spoon. “I guess…”
“Guess what?”
“It brings back so many memories. Being back home. This is the longest I’ve stayed in this house since my dad…” It was true. The times she’d visited before were only for the weekends.
Chantelle heard Douglas’ chair scrape the floor as he came over to her. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now.”
A tsk noise escaped her mouth. “Everyone keeps saying that. They’ve been saying it since the funeral.”
Douglas continued. “I don’t want to replace him, but you know I love your mother. Right?”
Chantelle turned off the water and dried her hands. Douglas was telling the truth. She knew that much. She looked up at him, folding her arms over her chest. “I know you do, but having you here is… different.”
He bobbed his head. “I understand.”
“I promise I’m getting better.” She stared at the table where she and her father used to talk all the time as a girl. She’d never forget the conversation, asking him when a person knew they were in love. “Sometimes it’s as if it happened yesterday.”
Douglas held out his hand to her. Chantelle placed hers in his. They both turned their backs and leaned against the counter facing the window. Streams of moonlight peaked through the small curtains.
“Losing a parent is never easy,” he said.
Chantelle looked over at him. “Mom told me you lost your mother right after you two met.”
Douglas nodded. “It was the worst pain I had felt in a long time.” Then he looked over at her. “Being with your mother helped me.”
Chantelle smiled. “She’s the best.”
Douglas paused. Did he want to say more?
She squinted her eyes at him. “Did my mom give you the rundown on me and Lance?”
“She shared a few things with me, but I never pressed for details.” He looked over at her. “I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me yourself.”
To her surprise, she didn’t let go of her sted-dad’s hand. Somehow it brought solace. “Let’s just say... we were young. We’re older now, and hopefully the wiser for it.”
Douglas chuckled.
“What?”
“You’re beyond your years, Chantelle. Few people your age think like that.”
She shrugged. “I know. Not too many people understand me.” Lance did, but that was a long time ago.
“Sometimes, all you need is one,” Douglas said.
“What is going on in here?” Chantelle’s mother asked with her hands on her hips. “Douglas,
have you been in my cake?”
His mouth fell open since the evidence was on the table.
“On that note,” Chantelle said. “Good night, everyone.” She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling her giggles as she hurried to her bedroom.
Chapter 17
“Thanks Dottie.” Lance handed her his suit jacket and tie.
“I have lunch prepared in the kitchen for you. I would take a good nap too. You look tired.”