The Dad Next Door

“I don’t care.”

Assuming she was just being polite, Allison made the most obvious choice. “Well, let’s do chocolate chip, then.”

She was rewarded with another big smile.

THE HOUSE FELT EMPTY without his daughter. Gavin knew he ought to take advantage of the time to do some unpacking. He got as far as setting out the lawn chairs on the deck. The view was so enticing, he settled on one of them.

A couple of ducks were feeding in the grass along the lakeshore. The sinking sun cast long shadows over the water. Gavin stared into the dark patches and thought of the days when sitting and doing nothing would have horrified him. He wondered if he’d ever get his old energy back.

Time passed the way it usually did when he was in one of these moods, with his brain stuck in neutral, just like his body.

Life was less painful this way.

At some point, the phone began to ring. He wanted to ignore it, but knowing it might be Tory, he hurried inside.

The number on display was a familiar legal firm in Hartford. “Matt?”

“Hey, bro. How’s the new place?”

Gavin perched on one of his many moving cartons. “Fine. How are things with you?”

“Don’t ask.”

“It’s kind of late to be at the office, isn’t it?”

His brother sighed. “Like I said, don’t ask.”

“Is it a new case?”

Matthew didn’t reply.

Just screw it for once, Gavin wanted to say. No matter how important work seems to you right now, your family is more important. Go home. Be with them.

“Say hi to Gillian and the kids for me. Tory and I miss you guys.” That was the one bad thing about this move. They were too far away from his brothers and his mom. He and his siblings didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but ever since they’d been kids, Sunday afternoons had been family time. “Have you heard from Nick lately?”

“Not for a while.”

Gavin could guess why. “Must be a new girlfriend in the picture.”

“It’s hard to keep track,” Matthew agreed. “You give Tory a hug from us. Is she really handling the move okay?”

“It’s been an adjustment,” Gavin admitted. “But she’s taken to one of our neighbors. When Tory’s around Allison, she’s almost like herself again.”

“That’s great. Are they in the same grade?”

“Um, no. Allison’s an adult.”

“An adult, huh? Older?”

“A few years younger than me, I’d guess.”

“And pretty? Unattached?”

It was his turn to say, “Don’t ask.”

Matthew laughed. “Okay, I won’t. But I have a feeling I’ll be hearing that name again soon.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Remembering Allison’s warm smile and her curious green eyes, Gavin thought maybe it was advice he should be giving himself.

TORY HAD NEVER MADE COOKIES before, and she was eager to help. As Allison slid the first batch into the oven, the young girl settled on a stool so she could keep an eye on them through the oven door.

“This is fun.”

Allison opened the dishwasher and loaded the dirty dishes. “What’s your favorite part?”

“Adding the chocolate chips.”

“I thought you were going to say licking the beaters.”

“That was good, too.”

She was so easy to please. Allison grinned, thinking she hadn’t enjoyed herself this much on a Friday night in ages. And that included when things had been going well between her and Tyler.

Seven minutes later, the timer rang and Allison pulled out the first tray of cookies. She put two on a plate for Tory and poured her a glass of milk.

“Allison?” Tory’s mouth was smeared with chocolate. “Do you have a sister?”

“No. I’m an only child like you.” Allison could tell right away that she’d said something wrong. “What is it, Tory? Have I made you sad?”

“I had a sister.”

Had. The word hit her like a solid punch. She tried to catch her breath. “Did you?”

“Sam was supposed to hold Daddy’s hand like me, but she ran away. She wanted to pet the dog. But she didn’t see the motorcycle.”

Allison froze. It sounded as if Tory’s sister had been in an accident, and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing. No wonder Gavin had freaked out when Tory disappeared. The poor man.

“I’m so sorry.” She stroked Tory’s shoulder. Her impulse was to change the subject, but Tory must be talking about this because she wanted to. Maybe she even needed to. “How old was your sister?”

“Same as me.”

“You were twins? Oh, honey. You must miss your sister so much.”

“Sam liked cookies. She liked chocolate chips the best.”

Allison drew in a shaky breath. This was okay. Tory wasn’t falling apart. She couldn’t, either. “What do you like the best?”

Before the little girl could answer, the doorbell rang.