Connor by Chris Keniston

Author:Chris Keniston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

"It was really sweet of you to carry her in like this," Catherine whispered as she held the door open for Connor.

Spending the day at the Farraday’s had worn Stacey out. When time to leave had finally rolled around, Stacey had ignored her mother until Catherine promised that she could visit again tomorrow. Once they'd all climbed into Connor's old truck, he'd barely turned the ignition on when exhaustion won out and Stacey nodded off to sleep.

"No problem. Which way?" Connor paused at the door and shifted Stacey onto his shoulder with the practiced ease of a loving father. Immediately she'd curled into him, her fingers searching and settling against his neck.

The sight stole Catherine's breath. "We're sleeping in here." Leading the way to the downstairs guest room off the kitchen, Catherine glanced over her shoulder memorizing the image of her daughter safely tucked into Connor's shoulder. Whipping the sheets back on the large bed she and Stacey shared, she eased away making room for Connor to set the girl down. The second her head touched the pillow, she rolled onto her side and curled into the mattress. Catherine removed her socks and shoes under Connor's watchful eye and avoided the risk of waking up Stacey with any attempt at putting on her pajamas.

Softly, Catherine closed the door behind them and waved Connor into the main room. "I hope she sleeps through the night again."

"Doesn't like a strange bed?" Connor paused beside her.

"Maybe, but she's had trouble with nightmares since her father died. They've lessened with time. Used to be every night. Sometimes twice a night. Now it's dwindled to a couple of times a week. She'd slept through the night before we left Chicago and hasn't woken up since we arrived here. If she sleeps through the night, it may be her longest streak of good night sleeps yet."

"I'm sorry to hear that." His gaze drifted toward the closed door of Stacey's room. “She's such a sweet kid."

"She used to be really happy. I won't kid you. My husband and I worked insane hours. I guess you could say we were two workaholic peas in a pod. Eighty-hours was a short work week for us. Most of Stacey's waking hours were spent with a nanny. There were days when we didn't see her at all, but she was a happy girl."

Connor turned his attention back to Catherine, but to her surprise, his gaze didn't hold judgment or contempt. More like curiosity, or perhaps understanding.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to dump on you." Working crazy hours left little time for developing friendships, and her father certainly didn't want to hear anything that remotely sounded like a complaint. All her life she'd been raised to have a thick skin and take it like a man. And she had. Except where it came to Stacey. "I've said too much."

"No. I…I'd like to hear more."

Catherine nodded. She wanted to share her little girl with someone besides a therapist making vain and empty promises.

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