My girlfriend even laughed when Grace’s grape juice launched itself onto her white dress at dinner!
“It’s just juice,” Claire said, dabbing at it. “I’ve survived worse.”
She sat cross-legged on our kitchen floor.
Later, when I was tucking Grace in, she pulled the blanket up to her chin and whispered, “Dad. I think Mom would’ve liked her.”
That undid me a little. I kissed her forehead and didn’t trust my voice enough to answer.
***
The first time Claire brought me to meet her mother was during a family dinner at Isla’s house. Cream carpets, matching walls, and a woman who hugged me as if I were a delivery she’d been expecting.
That undid me a little.
Halfway through dessert, Isla pulled her daughter into the hallway. I got up to grab more wine and caught the tail end of it.
“Just remember what we talked about,” Isla murmured.
My girlfriend nodded quickly.
