“How long has it been since she visited?”
“A couple of years.”
“I’m sure she misses you. A lot. But I know your grandma very well and she’s an amazing woman.” Mindy buttered the cookie sheet. “Let’s roll the dough into balls. Like this.” She showed Livvy how.
“So you don’t have a mom either?”
“She died when I was ten.” Mindy concentrated on rolling the dough between her palms.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“You can tell me anything.” Mindy gave the teen a comforting smile.
“I forget what my mom smells like. She always wore the same perfume from a pretty bottle. I wish I knew what it was called.”
“Sometimes I forget what my mama looked like, smelled like too…and the sound of her voice. I do remember the song she sang, Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, to me every night at bedtime. I miss her every day.”
“I miss mine too, although my mom didn’t die. She left. Dad says she is an actress at heart. I think she just didn’t love me enough.” Livvy rolled the tip of her finger through spilled flour on the counter.
“Oh, honey. I’m sure she loves you dearly. Sometimes…well, sometimes a parent has a difficult time showing how much they care for one reason or another. After Mom passed, my dad had a hard time for a while.” She didn’t know how much to share with the teen but remembering how she felt at fourteen she only wanted people to be truthful.
“Dad’s that way too. I think sometimes he hates having me.” The words seemed to suck the oxygen right out of the room.
Mindy wanted to hug her—wanted to tell the young girl—going on young lady—that everything would be alright. “I’m sure that’s not true.” Mindy’s chest twisted. No child should ever feel unwanted or unloved. “I felt the same way about my father too, but I was wrong.”
“Is the pan ready to go in?”
“Yes.”
Once the pan was in, Livvy said, “Dad won’t even let me wear makeup. All the girls at school are allowed,” she huffed. “He treats me like a baby.”
Mindy had these same arguments with her father, and with Jane. “You’re a beautiful girl and he probably thinks you don’t need any.”
“He doesn’t understand anything. He especially doesn’t understand Alex.” A sparkle came to her eyes.
“Alex? Is that your boyfriend?”
Livvy’s face softened some and her cheeks flushed. “No. He’s my friend. We’ve been friends since we were kids and we like the same things. Basketball. Kickball. I think Dad would like it if I didn’t have any friends.”
“I bet Alex is a nice boy.” Mindy needed to tread carefully. She didn’t want to make anything more difficult between Livvy and Creed. Mindy understood how difficult teen years could be for kids and parents both. Jane had gone through a similar stage where she was lying and skipping school with friends. Thankfully, they’d survived the rebellious years.
“He’s always taking my phone. If I breath too loud he’ll take it.”
Mindy decided not to point out the exaggeration. “I’m sure that can be upsetting. What do you like to do for fun? Outside of texting and socializing on the phone? I know you said basketball and kickball.”
“I like to read too. And draw, but I’m not good at it.”
“I found figure skating and I immediately loved it, but I’d fall all the time. Then I was in competitions. I’ll be coaching at the local ice rink.”
“You’re that good?”
Mindy laughed. “I think I can hold my own.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound rude. I’m always being told that I don’t have a filter, whatever that means.”
“You’re fine. I haven’t dedicated myself to the sport as much as I once did because I had other things vying for my attention but it’s important that we find what we love and hold onto it.”
“Thank you for helping me make cookies.”
“If you need help with anything, I’ll be around.”
~~~~
Creed looked across the space of the porch steps at Mindy where she sat with the slit in the skirt of the dress parted, showing off tanned thigh. She played with the necklace and stared into the night sky.
He dragged his gaze back to her face where she took a long drawl from the bottle of beer. Something jerked inside him—something powerful and amazing. He inhaled sharply and took in the smell of freshly baked cookies. He appreciated that she’d offered to help Livvy.
“Just like old times.” She winked and set the bottle on the top step.
“Thank you,” he said
“For what?” Her gaze met his for a good three heartbeats before she turned away.
“For helping Livvy. I’m sure she’d rather have you in the kitchen with her than me,” he muttered, feeling the weight of disappointment on his shoulders. He didn’t choose to have things so chaotic between them, but he didn’t seem to have the capability to stop the train from speeding out of control.
“I did feel some tension.”
“Hell, you sure it wasn’t a tsunami? I feel like I’m caught up and can’t get out. She hates me.” He sighed and scraped a palm down his jaw.
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s a teen who is unsure about life and wants to be valued and loved.” She stretched her legs and the hem raised a few inches higher above her knee.
“Oh, so she talked to you?”
“She did.”
Why did he feel a jab of envy? As Livvy’s father he couldn’t get her to talk but Mindy knew her for less than fifteen minutes and she had become a chatter box. “What am I doing wrong?”
“Fourteen is a hard age. Things are always changing—with their body and peer pressure.”
“You survived parenthood. Any suggestions?” Did
