“Oh.”
She beamed. “He said my ass looked fantastic. The best ass in the whole school.”
Oh, God.
If that was how things were going to go down from now on, Avery was coming with us on our next date.
Age Twenty-Six
Maggie dropped a kiss on my cheek before sliding into the booth. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, my girl.” I was only Daddy on the rare occasion now.
She picked up her bouquet I had waiting, and inhaled the pink and white roses, sighing with pleasure.
“You look beautiful today.”
She smiled at me, fingers tracing over the blooms. “Gran says I look just like Mom did when you married her.”
“You do.”
She was Avery all over again. My sons were both tall—taller than I was—but Maggie took after Avery, in every aspect: her light-colored, curly hair; her small stature; and her gentle, caring spirit. She carried peppermints everywhere she went, and she even hated clowns. They were so similar it made my chest ache.
Her eyes were the only difference. Swirls of blue and green made up the hazel irises. Their color caught the light and reflected her moods. Today they were calm, the green more predominant, and she did look like Avery. Her hair was caught up in clips and it hung down her back in masses of curls. She claimed to hate it, but I loved it. So did the other man in her life.
I poured her a glass of wine, remembering our earlier dates of pizza and chocolate milk. Now they consisted of wine and some interesting entrée she would choose for us. As a food critic, Maggie loved trying new food, and we’d been to many different restaurants over the past few years.
“How’s your mom?”
Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “I exhausted her today, I think. The boys were taking dinner to her.”
“Good. Everything set?”
“Yes.” She grinned, looking more like a teenager than a young woman. “Two days from now I’ll be married! Can you believe it!”
I shook my head, still unsure where the time went.
Our children were all grown and on their own.
Carter was married already, with our first grandchild on the way. Avery and I adored his wife, Suzanne, a soft-spoken, kind woman. He worked in the clinic with me; his path as a vet set early on in life, and he never wavered.
For the longest time, we thought Dylan was destined to be a wild bachelor, forever coming home for meals and to have his laundry done—until the day he met Laura. The transformation had been mind boggling. Dylan settled down, his priorities and lifestyle changed drastically. Avery considered Laura an angel. He still traveled a lot as a freelance journalist, but his life had developed into something resembling normalcy.
Maggie lived not far from us, and as of Friday, would marry her high school sweetheart, Josh. He’d been part of our lives for many years; he was already like another son. The day he came to Avery and me, to ask for permission to marry Maggie, there’d been no hesitation from either of us. We were thrilled to have him as a permanent part of the family. He’d called Avery his adopted mother for years, and she was pleased to know he would officially be her son now.
“I guess our dates are done.”
“What? No, Daddy! I don’t want them over!”
My chest warmed at her endearment. “Really?”
She covered my hand with hers. “I love our time. I’d miss it too much.”
I squeezed her fingers. “So would I.”
The entrées came, and I smirked. “Maybe we could stick to dinner. I’m getting a little old for mini golf.”
She giggled, the sound making me feel nostalgic. “You’re not old, Dad. Mom still says you’re the sexiest man alive.”