Page 75 of The Sandbar saga

Stepping into the bedroom, she relaxed at the sight of her daughter playing in the corner with the bag of toys they'd brought with them on their trip. "Callie, I'm home."

Her daughter dropped her doll and scrambled to her feet. Braced for the running hug, she held the sack of food out to her side, laughing.

"Did you get me a toy meal?" Callie hopped up and down in front of her.

"Of course." She straightened. "Go wash your hands and meet me at the table."

"Okay." Her daughter rushed from the room, stopped, and came back. "Are you staying for dinner, Darla?"

"I can't, sweetie. Another time, okay?" Darla smiled, and when Callie was out of the room said, "She is such a doll."

"She was good for you?"

"Perfect. She brought out my inner girl, and I spent the afternoon playing dolls and drinking out of teacups." Darla walked with her into the living room, grabbing her bag off the couch. "I'll let you guys eat and see you later."

"Wait." She put the fast-food bag down. "Let me get you some money for watching Callie."

"Nope." Darla opened the front door. "Pete's already paid me."

She sighed, still surprised that Pete and his new wife had helped her when she'd called, needing a rental, needing storage, needing a babysitter. Her old friend had matured, settled, and proved himself a caring friend after not speaking with her for all these years. "He didn't have to do that."

"Bring that up with him. You know how he is...stubborn." Darla waved and shut the door.

Distracted by Callie coming back, freshly washed, holding up her hands for inspection, she pointed to the bag. "Dig in, but remember not to make a mess, and you must eat before you play with the toy."

"We can't make a mess cause this isn't our house." Callie climbed up on the chair, sitting on her knees.

"Right-o." She went into the kitchen and washed her hands, then joined her daughter at the table.

She couldn't help staring at how beautiful Callie looked, even with braids that were half undone and ketchup from her cheeseburger on her cheek. At fours year old and three months, Callie had one more year before she would start kindergarten. She wished she could slow time.

"Aren't you eating, mommy?" Callie bit the end of a French fry off.

Too nervous to eat, she stole one of Callie's fries and popped it in her mouth. "Better be careful." She wiggled her fingers, distracting her daughter from her loss of appetite. "I'll take more."

Callie grabbed the little sack containing the fries. "These are for big kids, not mommies."

"Oh, is that right?" She tilted her head. "I know something that is for kids and mommies."

Callie stopped mid-chew. "What?"

"A shopping trip. I thought tomorrow we'd go into town and try and find a pretty dress for you. You've grown out of most of your fancy clothes. We'll find one that makes you look like a princess."

"Like Elsa?" Callie bounced in the chair. "Please?"

"You bet." She eyed Callie's food, guessing a few more bites would be all her daughter would eat. "While you finish your meal, I'll go fill up the bathtub. After that, maybe you want to watch the movie on my phone."

"Yes." Callie waved her hands. "Hurry."

She laughed, leaving the table. Out of sight of her daughter, she dropped the smile from her face and inhaled deeply. Afraid of hoping all her plans would work out, she tried to hold it all together for Callie.

She hadn't told anyone why she'd come back to Astoria and why she wanted to raise her daughter here. Not that she had many people in her life. While living in Newport, she'd gone from work to home to showing houses. The only person she relied on was Mrs. Davonport, who had lived next door in the duplex and watched Callie since she was three months old. Afraid the older woman would judge her decisions; she'd told her that she already had a job lined up and wanted to move back to where she grew up.

Turning on the water, she adjusted the temperature and flipped the stopper. Luckily, Callie was an early to bed, early to rise child. After a bath, a movie, and probably a short book, her daughter would go to bed and sleep all night.

Then, it would be her turn to take a bath and try to relax.

"Mommy," shouted Callie, running into the bathroom. "I'm done."