“Mr. Van and me made it together! It’s his special thing!”
Liv looked confused. “Special thing?”
I chuckled. “My specialty. A little mouse told me your favorite comfort food was mac and cheese. It happens to be one of my signature casseroles.”
Liv’s eyes grew wide. “You-you didn’t have to do that,” she sputtered. “You’ve done so much—”
I cut off her protests with a wave of my hand. “Nonsense. I was hungry and so was Mouse, so we made dinner. We ate and I have yours ready to heat up.”
Her expression morphed into something soft. Grateful. Sweet. Her eyes shimmered like liquid gold, and she blinked, dropping her gaze.
Was she crying over macaroni?
She laid her hand on my arm, her voice quiet. “Thank you, Van. Having dinner, my favorite dinner, made for me is a treat. What you did for me today—I can’t even begin to say thank you.”
I looked at her hand resting against my bicep. Small and delicate, her fingers clutched at the material of my shirt as if she needed something to hold on to. I had to refrain from telling her she could hold on to me anytime she wanted. Instead, I covered her hand with mine and squeezed her fingers.
“Anytime, Liv. Mouse and I had a great time together.” I winked at her. “And I was good. I made her eat dinner, including carrot sticks, before we had tea and cookies.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well then, you did well. She never eats carrot sticks for me.”
“Mr. Van’s taste better, Mom.”
“Oh?”
“I think it’s the ranch dressing we dipped them in,” I confessed. I unfurled my legs and stood, holding out my hand in invitation. “Why don’t you come, eat your dinner, and tell us about what happened. Mouse has lots to tell you about her day.”
She accepted my hand, letting me help her up from the floor. “I want to check in on my mom.”
“Oh, ah, well, she called about twenty minutes ago. Mouse spoke to her, then I did. Her head was feeling a little better, but she was going to bed. I gave her the name of the pain clinic I go to. There’s a guy there who does wonders with migraines. I told her she should go see him.”
“She’s been trying to get into one, but so many aren’t accepting patients.”
“I know. I know Phil really well, and I sent him a text telling him to expect her call. He promised to see her as a personal favor.”
Liv stared up at me, silent.
“Was that okay?”
Her voice was thick when she spoke. “More than okay.”
“So how about dinner?”
Mouse jumped up. “I’ll go push the button on the microwave!”
I looked at Liv. “Coming?”
She launched herself at me, catching me by surprise. Her hug was hard, her arms tight around my neck. I embraced her, holding her snug, enjoying having her close.
“Thank you,” she breathed out. Her lips pressed on my cheek, once, twice. “Thank you.”
She hurried away, rushing down the hall. I could hear the emotion in her voice, and I knew she was crying. I wanted to go after her and hold her some more, but I knew I needed to take things slow. Instead, I headed to the kitchen to help Mouse heat up Liv’s dinner.
“This is delicious,” Liv mumbled around a mouthful. “I can’t believe you cook. Is there anything you can’t do?”
I chuckled while trying not to stare. When Liv had reappeared, her hair was loose and hung down her back in a long, silken wave. It was gorgeous and I wanted to touch it. I had to stop myself from doing so by staying busy and getting her a drink. “I cook simple. My mom taught me casseroles, and I do a mean barbeque. I can’t create meals the way she does.”
Liv kept eating, obviously hungry. I had put extra effort into dinner since I knew she liked Sammy to eat healthy. I added carrot and celery sticks, sliced cucumber, and red pepper pieces to the plate. Sammy had gobbled them up, especially after I told her she only got Oreos if she ate everything, vegetables included, on her plate. Liv laughed when I told her the same thing.
But they both polished off their dinner.
It felt good knowing I had helped Liv. The look of exhaustion and panic on her face when she bumped into me in the hall made the need to do something, anything, for her, paramount. Her hesitancy had been easy to override, and I knew she was at her limit today. Mouse had been thrilled to find out we were spending some time together. Shopping with her was fun, although I quickly realized she played the cute factor often. I only allowed her to add two items to the cart.
Oreos for the tea party she was desperately wanting, and a KitKat bar we shared in the truck.
Once she was strapped in, I broke off a wafer and handed it to her. “You were very good in the store, Mouse. But this treat is just between us, okay? Don’t tell Mommy. I’m not sure she’d approve of cookies and a chocolate bar.”
She giggled. “Okay. But you get some too, Mr. Van!”
I broke off another wafer and bit into it. I ruffled her hair, the golden strands wild and soft. “You’re a good kid, Mouse. You share well.”
“Mommy says you should always share and be nice.”
“Mommy is right.”
She grinned at me, looking so much like Liv, it made me smile.
“Okay, let’s go home and make supper.”
She bobbed her head. “I can help!”
I ruffled her hair again and gave her another wafer. “I’m counting on it, Mouse.”
Liv set down her fork. “Thank you, Van. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed dinner so much.”
I frowned. “Then you need some serious spoiling, Liv.”
She smiled, looking down at her plate, running her finger around the rim.
“You do that a lot,” I observed.
She glanced up, confused. “Do what?”
“You look down when you smile.” Without thinking, I laid my hand on top of hers. “You have such a beautiful smile. You need to let people see it.”
“Oh,” she breathed out.
Sammy giggled, looking up from the picture she was coloring. “Grammie says my smile is just like Mommy’s. Does that mean it’s beautiful too?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “It is.”
“I like your smile,” Sammy stated. “It’s nice. And your eyes get all wrinkly. I like that.”
Liv looked horrified, but I was amused by her honesty. “That’s what happens when you get old, Sammy. You get wrinkly.”
“You’re not old,” Liv objected. “I’m thirty-two.”
“I’m seven years older than you.”
She shrugged. “It’s a number.”
Her easy acceptance somehow made me feel better. It also made me feel as if perhaps she wasn’t as set against the possibility of a date as I feared. Or a relationship.
Both of which, I realized, I wanted with her.
“She’s out like a light,” Liv murmured, stroking Sammy’s hair. She peeked up at me with a grin. “I would have thought with all the sugar you fed her, she’d be wired.”
“A couple of cookies isn’t bad,” I scoffed.
“Add in a chocolate bar, and it’s a lot.”