So, I promised him I would massage oil into his cuticles extra carefully after he’s all painted. He gave me a lazy smile when he said, “I’m holding you to that,” which made heat swirl through my stomach.
And panties.
“My mommy used to paint every one of my nails a different color.”
I lift my head quickly to look at Del.
David is looking at her too. I think he’s holding his breath.
I know I am.
“I couldn’t pick a favorite color, and she said I didn’t have to, that all colors are great and I could have all the colors,” Del says, her face scrunched up as she concentrates on David’s thumbnail.
I swallow and look over at Jack. He’s seated across from us with Chelsea on one side, painting his right hand, and Sloan on the other, painting his left hand. The idea is that the adult woman will demonstrate painting the nails on one hand while the little girl does the other hand.
Of course, Chelsea and Sloan are now staring at Del. And Jack looks like his daughter just slapped him.
I assume they talk about Kaitlyn, but maybe he just wasn’t expecting Del to bring her up so casually.
Chelsea’s expression is impossible to read. I lost my mom at the same age. I know how hard it is to process that loss at an age where you’re old enough to understand she’s not coming back, but you’re too young to really know how that’s going to impact everything for the rest of your life, and you discover it over and over again.
Then I look over at the middle girl, Ray. She’s on Tucker’s lap with Delaney beside them. Ray already has three of her grandpa’s fingers painted.
She’s staring at his hand but not painting. And not saying anything.
All of the adults are staring at Del, though.
I share a look with Sloan. Her expression clearly says, “Oh my God, help, what do we do?”
I have no idea. We’re the guests here.
“That sounds very cool, can you do that to mine?”
My eyes go to David’s face. He’s concentrating on his niece. He’s looking at her with wide, excited eyes and a big smile.
If I weren’t this close to him, I wouldn’t have noticed the stiff way he’s holding his shoulders or how fast the pulse at the base of his throat is pounding.
Del talking about her mom is killing him a little, but she won’t see anything but happiness.
“I guess so.” Del looks at me. “Can we do that many colors?”
I nod quickly. “Of course. Part of the fun of manicures is getting to do whatever you want to your nails. You look at them the most so they should make you smile whenever you look down.”
I’m smiling widely too and praying that the little girl can’t yet tell when adults are faking it ’til they make it.
Del looks up at David. “Would it make you smile?”
Oh, my god. I swallow hard.
“Are you kidding?” David asks. “Your mom was so cool. I want to do anything she did.”
Del sits up straighter. “She was cool?”
“Very cool,” David tells her.
“You were her friend?” Ray asks.
David looks at his other niece. “Definitely.”
