This Wandering Heart by Janine Rosche

Author:Janine Rosche [Rosche, Janine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2020-05-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I have a surprise for you.” Keira stood beneath the Jeep’s tailgate, shielded from Idaho’s searing midafternoon sun. She rummaged through one of her suitcases, no doubt looking for her next ensemble. Her fourth one, even though they’d only been out shooting for five hours. She tossed a couple of items off to the side and closed the bag.

Robbie didn’t know who Tumi was or why his name was on all her luggage, but it looked way fancier than his duffel bag he’d had since ninth grade.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” The stone Robbie tossed landed on the chalk square labeled with a three. Like a flamingo, he hiked up one leg in preparation for his turn on the hopscotch grid.

He landed on square one and two, leaped over three, all the while watching Keira comb her long waves into a high ponytail. The sight of her slender neck sent ripples through him. He remembered the many times he’d kissed that soft skin like it was yesterday. In his excitement, he missed box six, and stumbled on boxes seven and eight.

“You did it wrong, Daddy.”

“Guess you gotta show me again.” Robbie scooped the stone off the pavement and placed it in Anabelle’s hand. Back at the Jeep, he leaned against the rear body panel.

“We’re doing one of your favorite things. Before you ask, yes, you can bring Anabelle.” The familiar oversize T-shirt Keira slipped over her head had the logo of a fly-fishing guide company on the breast pocket. Beneath the cotton, her arms wrestled like two snakes in a sack.

Robbie looked to where Anabelle was struggling to hurdle square two. Next time, he’d have to draw the grid smaller. When the rustling of clothes ceased, he joined Keira under the tailgate.

It was magic how girls could change clothes without ever showing their skin. Was that a skill they learned in middle school or something? Did mothers teach their daughters how to do that? Robbie hoped not. Add that to the list of things Anabelle could never learn from him.

“Isn’t that mine?” he asked.

“I have no idea what you mean.” That smile of hers, like always, summoned him closer.

“I must be imagining things because that shirt sure does look familiar.” He pointed to a spot in the center, above the breast bone. “See this barbecue sauce stain?” When she glanced down, he flicked her nose.

“Oh goodness. Do your dad jokes never end?”

“Get ready. I hear they’ll get worse as I age.”

“So when we’re touring some castle in Switzerland in sixty years and Anabelle says, ‘I’m hungry,’ you’ll say?”

“Probably ‘Where are my teeth?’”

She laughed. Beneath the dingy shirt, she wore a pair of bike shorts.

She looked . . . what was that word? Frumpy. That was it. And he loved the look on her.

Following Keira’s request, Anabelle repacked the chalk in the activity box. Robbie grabbed three waters out of the cooler while Keira straightened up the trunk. There was a rhythm to their movements now. Each person did their own task, but the combined effort led to results.

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