Fortuity (Transcend 3)

When I hear voices next door, I stop my gentle, creaky rocking. Gabe runs down the deck stairs followed by Gracelyn and her parents. Her mom smiles at something Gracelyn says as they both slide their purses over their shoulders in the same casual manner.

She’s a slightly more filled-out version of Gracelyn with a tousled gray and auburn pixie cut, dangling earrings, and red lipstick. The man resting his hand on Gabe’s shoulder looks like a giant in dark trousers and a white button-down. His gray comb-over reveals his hidden dome when the breeze grabs it. Really … he must be at least six-seven. A broad-shouldered man who could be cast for the role of a basketball coach.

Gracelyn does a double take as if she wasn’t expecting me to be sitting so still watching her.

“Off to dinner?” I ask, feeling the need to say something since she’s spotted me.

My question stops everyone. Her mom lifts an eyebrow at her daughter, who can’t keep from smiling at me. Yep, I’m the neighbor who has a thing for your daughter. She’s pretty fucking perfect. I’m not sure her mom reads all of that in my grin, but it’s there. It’s always there.

“Yes. Gabe wants pizza. Um …” Her words falter as her parents eye her.

Of course, they want to know who I am. As the father of a girl, I already know I’d sure as hell want to know why some guy I’d never met was eyeing my daughter like his favorite snack.

I save her because I try to imagine what a guy could do to win me over if Morgan liked him. The answer is nothing, but she’s ten. “Hi. I’m Nathaniel Hunt. My daughter and Gabe have become good friends.” I stand at the edge of the deck and lean on the railing. No need to shake hands and hold them up too long. That’s what Morgan would do. She’d talk them into starvation. Of course, I mean that in the most loving way.

“Yes, uh …” Gracelyn plasters on a cool smile, but her pink cheeks tell the real truth, and her mom’s brow-lifted gaze at her says she knows there’s more to this story too. “Nate, these are my parents, Sharon and Forest.”

“Nice to meet you,” they say in unison.

Sharon clears her throat and eyes me with her daughter’s smile. “Married?”

“Mom!” Gracelyn grits through her teeth.

“Widowed. It’s just me and my daughter.”

“I’m so sorry.” Her smile fades.

I shake my head. “It’s been ten years. But condolences to you for your loss too.”

A small smile reappears along her red lips, but it’s not the same one. It’s sad. It’s … life. “Thank you.”

“I’m hungry,” Gabe sighs.

Forest grips his shoulders. “Then let’s get you fed.”

“Enjoy your dinner.” I smile.

Gracelyn’s parents follow Gabe to the front of the house, and she drags behind them, holding my gaze for a few extra seconds.

I wink and she grins a little more before looking forward. That woman … she makes every day a little better. I can’t really explain it. Jenna had that same magic, so did Daisy. And of course … no one has it quite like Morgan.

Instead of thinking how it will feel to leave Gracelyn, I sit down in my rocker and give thanks to whatever power has granted me the gift of sharing parts of my life with so many great women.

*

“Slip on your shoes.” I slide my wallet into my front pocket and retrieve the key fob from the counter.

Morgan glances up from her beanbag and her knitting. “It’s almost my bedtime. Where are we going?”

“It’s a holiday week. I feel like ice cream.”

Her eyes widen, jaw unhinging. “Are you serious?”

“I could tell you were a little envious of Gabe’s grandparents coming for the Fourth, so I thought ice cream might make things better.”

She caps her needles and jumps up. “Ice cream makes everything better.”

“Oh!” I grunt when she hugs me so hard I take a few steps back.

“Thank you for being the best dad ever.”

I hug her. “You’re wrong. My little girl … who is trying way too hard to become a woman … she makes everything okay.”

We get ice cream. We make a mess of it. We laugh.

I take all that she’ll give me. The future holds plenty of regimen, unbendable schedules, and homework. Right now, ice cream makes sense.

“What is this? Where are we?” Morgan asks, sitting up straighter.

“It’s the airport. I have to grab something.”

“What do you grab from an airport?”

I shoot her a quick sideways glance. “You’ll see.”

“Just tell me.”

“Just wait.” I laugh.

“I can’t wait.”

“You can.”

“Daaad!”

“Mooorgan!”

She crosses her arms over her chest and grumbles something I can’t understand.

We park and go inside. “Have a seat.” I nod beside me as I sit on a bench by the arrivals.

“What are we doing? Is this another treasure hunt?”