“Ella Jo Parsons do not throw a fit,” Ava said in a low voice.
“Doll, Mama,” Ellie said, pointing once again to the big doll.
“Not now.” Ava stared at her and Ellie was old enough to know that look. She folded her little arms and pouted. Ava sighed, bought the smaller doll, and left the store. She tried to hand Ellie the other doll, but she refused to take it. “Little hardhead,” Ava muttered as she placed Ellie in her car seat, put the packages into the back, then climbed behind the wheel to drive them home.
She’d glance in the mirror but Ellie was still mad. Talk about holding a grudge. She remained quiet the entire ride home. Ava was just glad she wasn’t throwing a hissy fit and screaming her lungs out. It sure wouldn’t be the first time.
As she pulled up to her father’s house, she stepped out, removed Ellie and placed her on her feet. She ran toward the steps, and crawled up them, then to the door where she slammed her hand against the wood. When it opened, she put her little arms up for her papa to pick her up.
“What’s going on? She looks mad about something,” he asked.
“I wouldn’t buy her the doll she wanted, so she’s not talking to me.”
Her father laughed. “Sounds just like you. Did you pick up that tape measure for me?”
“Of course. I have it right here.” Ava held up a small bag, climbed the steps, and entered the house behind her father and daughter.
Sunlight slanted through the curtains, castingwarm lattices of light across the worn braided rug that the kitchen table sat on, as Ava followed her father into the living room. He guided Ellie to the plush carpet and gently lowered her to the floor, then sat in the recliner. Nearby, a gingerbread–brown rocking horse and scattered picture books formed a half-circle around the girl. In her hand, Ava held a pale-pink doll with glossy curls and a ruffled satin dress, every seam and ribbon freshly stitched. She knelt beside Ellie and offered it with a hopeful smile, but the toddler turned back to the bluish glow of the television, smoothing her chubby fingers over the carpet instead.
Her father chuckled; voice soft but amused. “Yep, just like you at that age. Why didn’t you get her the other one?”
Ava pressed her lips into a thin line. “It was three times the price of this doll.”
He raised an eyebrow as he settled into the high-backed armchair. “Ava, you have money.”
She drew in a breath and glanced at the coffee table, where leather-bound ledgers and a pair of gold-rimmed reading glasses lay in neat stacks. “That is not the point,” she said, running a fingertip along the spine of one book, “that’s a lot for a toy she’ll adore for a week and then abandon.”
“You don’t know that,” he countered, a gentle firmness in his tone.
“I’m not taking the chance,” she replied, shoulders tightening. “She needs to learn she can’t have everything she points at.” Her gaze flicked to her father’s steady eyes, searching for judgment. Instead, he merely lifted an eyebrow. With a resigned sigh, she added, “Yes, I got a lot of things growing up—”
“A lot of things? You got almost everything you ever pointed at.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You spoiled me.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and smiled. “Every little girl deserves to be spoiled.”
Ava shook her head, hair brushing her cheek. “I get that, Dad, but—”
“But what?” he prompted.
Her voice softened. “It’s just… I don’t want her to think she gets everything she wants.”
“I get that, but she’s a little girl, and you have the money.” He waved a hand as if dispensing her worries. “Your mother and I set up trust funds for you and Tyler. Use it.”
She bit her lip. “I know, but I don’t like the idea of buying something she’ll get tired of in a week or two.”
He reached over and patted her hand. “I get it, but if you can afford it, why not get it? Stop denying Ellie the same good childhood we provided for you. How about you let Deke get it? I’m sure he’d jump at the chance.”
Ava hesitated. “I’m sure… but I hate asking him.”
“Then don’t. I’m sure he’ll want to bring her something. When that happens, just tell him which doll to buy.”
She nodded slowly. “He was here last night, but Ellie was already asleep. He was disappointed but he said he’d be back. He wants to know his daughter and I shouldn’t have kept her from him all this time.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” her father murmured, a flicker of pain in his eyes.
Ava lowered her voice. “I never thought I’d eversee him again.”
