Page 56 of Whisper Sweet Nothings
. . .
Archer
I’d spokento Winnie multiple times a day while she was gone. I was shocked at how much I’d missed her. How she’d become a part of our family structure in such a short time.
She’d moved in less than two months ago.
But I supposed having someone in your life day in and day out—she was here in the mornings and at night—could cause you to grow attached to them.
Who knew.
She’d become someone I trusted and depended on where my daughter was concerned.
Hell, she’d become someone I trusted and depended on personally as well.
I’d missed her in a way I hadn’t expected, and she’d only been gone for a few days.
I knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t smart—but I didn’t know how to stop it.
And don’t even get me started on how many times I’d gotten off to this woman in the shower every damn day. It was the one guilty pleasure I’d allowed myself.
To give in to my desires from afar.
Sure, it was a little fucked up, but it was a hell of a lot better than acting on it.
“Winnie, I can’t believe you got me the best gifts ever,” Melody gushed.
We’d agreed that we’d celebrate Christmas when she got home. And my daughter had been so excited to open the final gifts under the tree that Winnie didn’t even get to go to her room and relax after we’d picked her up from the airport, because we jumped right into gift-opening.
“You like them?” she asked.
“You know how much I love to draw,” Melody said, holding up the wood case with hundreds of colored pencils and the large drawing notebook she’d gotten her. “And I can’t wait to make lots of friendship bracelets together.”
She’d gotten Melody way too much.
A bracelet-making kit, the drawing pencils and paper, and she still had two more packages to open.
“Open this one next,” Winnie said, handing my daughter the large box.
Melody tore the paper off and gasped when she lifted the lid to the box and saw the pink cowboy boots. “Winnie! You gots me the pink boots I love.”
How the hell didn’t I know she loved pink cowboy boots?
“I did. I remembered that day we saw them at the store, and I couldn’t wait to get them for you.” She pushed one more package in front of her. “And this is the last one.”
Melody opened the box to find a matching cowboy hat, and when she squealed with excitement and flung herself at Winnie, I was fairly certain I saw tears roll down both of their cheeks.
I loved how much this woman adored my daughter.
It was genuine and real and rare.
Melody ran off to her room to check herself out in the mirror with her new boots and hat on, and Winnie turned and handed me a package.
“I thought we said no gifts for us?”
“It’s nothing big. Just a little something to wish you a merry Christmas, Archie.” Her cheeks pinked, because she had no idea that I’d also broken the agreement.
“Thank you,” I said as I tore the wrapping off the box. When I lifted the top and set it aside, I took out the gorgeous frame with a collage of five photos in it. The one in the center was me lifting Melody above my head as we both laughed. It was the first day that it had snowed in Rosewood River, and we’d all three gone out to play in the snow. The next one was of Melody dressed as a reindeer for the holiday program. The third one was of Melody at her riding lesson up on her horse, Biffle, and she was clearly smiling at Winnie with her hand up. The last two photos nearly took my breath away, because they were so unexpected. One was of me sitting with my daughter on my lap reading her a book, and she was looking up at me with so much wonder. And the last one was of the night we put the Christmas tree up, and I was bent down handing Melody an ornament, and she was smiling at me with her hand on my cheek.
