Fortuity (Transcend 3)

“I bet she’ll love that. Your mom has been stockpiling so much shit for her. Stuffed animals, dolls, play dresses …”

Gracelyn makes it hard for me to focus on his words, especially now that I know how good she tastes, smells, and feels beneath me. I know the rhythm of her breaths as they increase from my touch. I know the pitch of her moans when she orgasms.

“You still there?” Dad asks.

I adjust myself because my brain does its own damn thing and my body responds without my control. “Yeah, what were you saying?”

“I said your mom has been stockpiling things for Morgan.”

“Tell her to not overdo it. Your granddaughter has made a lot of transitions over the last six or so months. Who knows what she’ll still like by the time we get home in August.”

“Too late. She passed the overdoing it part five years ago. I fear we’ll need a storage shed before long.”

I laugh, moving to the window so I can get a better look at Gracelyn’s dash up her stairs. Just as she sneaks out of the bushes, her gaze locks with mine. Her eyes narrow and she flips me the bird before making her dash. My usual, or according to Morgan, “special” smile for Gracelyn steals my face.

“How are you feeling about coming home? That book of yours ready to be published?”

I turn away from the window. Show’s over. “It’s getting there. I’m not sure where to end it. I’ve been adding more content about our time here since this is technically still part of our epic-eight year journey.”

“Is there much to write about San Diego? I assumed all your life lessons, reflections, and soul-searching had been achieved by now. Lord knows if I spent eight years circling the globe, I’d have all my shit worked out.”

I chuckle. “You do realize I did this for Morgan, to open her mind and shape her early on to be more aware of the world, its vastness, and its diversity. This hasn’t been the Nathaniel Hunt Soul-searching Tour.”

“Then the book you’re writing is all about Morgan?”

My father never stops making valid points, never stops reminding me that, although I have way more years of formal education than he has, he will always have more life experience and earned wisdom. Therefore, he will always make me feel like a child with something to learn from him.

“There might be a few self-reflective, soul-discovering moments in the book.”

He releases a soft laugh that sounds more like a cough. “Anything interesting there?”

Yes. My quirky, sexy, endearing, and rather addictive neighbor. “Our landlord is a great guy. And he’s renting the upstairs of his place to a woman who just got custody of her ten-year-old nephew after his parents died. So Morgan has a friend. That’s where she’s at right now. Downside? He’s addicted to screens, and Morgan is not immune to it anymore.”

“Well, you’ve got five weeks. I don’t think five more weeks will erase the impact of the previous eight years.”

“I’m not so sure. The internet is a powerful drug.”

“Well, tell Miss Morgan we want to see her precious face.”

I nod. “I’ll have her FaceTime you later. Give mom a hug for me.”

“Will do. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Dad.” I slide my phone onto the kitchen counter and start unloading the dishwasher.

The screen door creaks open.

“Hey, what do you think of flying Grandma and Grandpa Hunt out here for the Fourth of July?” I ask Morgan.

“I think holiday travel is pricey and not in my budget.”

I grin, setting a pile of clean plates on the shelf before turning toward Gracelyn. “Thought you were Morgan.”

She holds up the mug I gave her this morning and sets it on the counter. “No. She and Gabe just left to run to the hardware store with Mr. Hans.”

I narrow my eyes. “Without asking me?”

Gracelyn leans her hip against the counter and slides her fingers into the pockets of her denim capris. “She said she’s allowed to make certain decisions by herself now.”

“Bullshit,” I say on instinct. “Her body might be doing some more mature things, but she’s still ten and needs permission.”

“I figured you’d think that. I also figured you’d say yes if she did ask, so I didn’t push her to come ask you because I like being her friend.” Gracelyn’s freckled nose wrinkles. “I don’t want her to think I’m parenting her too.”

I nod slowly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

“Like what?”

She swallows hard when I take several steps toward her. “Like you’re thinking …” Doe eyes shoot up to meet my gaze.

“Thinking what?” My tongue glides along my lower lip, stealing her attention.

“Inappropriate thoughts,” she whispers.

“Because I am.”

“Um …” She presses her hands to my chest and trips on a nervous laugh. “We are never doing anything in this kitchen again. So don’t get any ideas.”